Have Mercy
by RedLightsRedFights
Summary: Mercy's past forced her to assume a new identity and start a new life in LA with a band. After playing a gig at Lux, the nightclub's owner is interested in her and why she's immune to his charms. It doesn't take long for Lucifer to discover she's isn't just resistant to him, but to all divine power, and the answer just might lie in something he always believed to be myth. (Luci/OC)
1. Chapter 1

LA wasn't the most ideal place to live. The crowds were thick, the competition for jobs was high, and about 60% of the population was high or drunk or off paying to get laid. Nightclubs littered the busier districts, strip clubs near (or in) them. Driving anywhere took at least a half hour. All in all, Mercy wasn't a fan, but it was easy to hide in big cities with so much happening inside it.

Exhaling out her nose in an effort to expel the stench of the homeless man she just past, Mercy walked briskly down the street with a guitar case strapped across her back and her flip phone in her hand. She squinted at the text on the screen, pushing her large black-framed glasses up her nose. The message read:

_We got a gig._

Mercy frowned, a bit skeptical. Save My Hero was beginning to gain ground ever since their first album was released. Their concert gigs were ending up in bigger and bigger places. It wasn't that Mercy was displeased with their growing success, but she wasn't eager to become part of what she saw as LA's problem.

Gripping the phone with both hands, she texted back, _Dare I ask?_

The response came quickly. Hutch had a smart phone like the majority of people and was able to respond faster than lightning sometimes.

_Lol chill. The money is insane._

Mercy paused and ducked slightly into an alley to stay out of the way of the walking crowd. She was tempted to just call Hutch, but he hated communicating in anything but text if it wasn't face-to-face.

_Why?_ Mercy texted back.

_What do you mean why? We're getting our name out there and this place wants some fresh talent that's I guess hip with the kids? _Hutch replied.

Mercy pursed her lips. She was wary of just about everything lately. The band wasn't exactly meant to go anywhere, but somehow a record company manage to hear them and liked their sound. It was like winning the lottery; they didn't even have to send out demo discs. She was meant to be laying low and staying hidden here, and becoming a rock star didn't exactly help that.

However, she wasn't going to wreck everything for her bandmates. Hutch, Miles, and Blake had given this thing their all, and they were her only friends here. They were practically her family. Of course, there was always the stories of bands falling apart once they got fame. Money could lead to corruption, Mercy knew that far too well.

_How much are we talking?_ Mercy texted.

_Are you sitting down?_ Was Hutch's cheeky reply.

_I'd rather not—pretty sure there's old vomit in this alley,_ Mercy typed.

_Lol. Okay. $2,500._

Mercy's eyes stretched wide. _For one gig?_ she hastily texted back.

_Each._

Mercy's jaw went slack. "Holy shit," she breathed out loud.

_Who the hell is paying us 2500 each for a single gig?!_ she asked.

_Okay so don't freak out._

Mercy immediately narrowed her eyes at Hutch's text. _Oh Lord what?_ she texted.

_It's at this nightclub._

Mercy groaned and hit the call button, putting the phone to her ear. It rang once before Hutch's voice answered.

"Don't be mad!" he begged, half-laughing.

"Hutch!" Mercy whined. "You _know_ how I feel about those sex dens."

"It's not a sex den!" Hutch insisted before pausing. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Ugh." Mercy closed her eyes and leaned heavily against the wall she stood by. "Which one? If you say the Kinky Lynx I _will_ murder you."

"Ew, no," Hutch said. "We'd catch something just walking in. No, this place is supposed to have class. It's called Lux."

"Lux?" Mercy frowned thoughtfully. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"It's on the same street as the recording studio," Hutch explained.

"Oh. Oh!" Mercy snapped her fingers. "The place that always has a line at night that's like a mile long. Well, we'll have a crowd I guess. How the hell did we get this? And with the pay?"

"Blake," Hutch said. "She said that she met this chick there—the bartender or something? Anyway, apparently this chick is like, trying to prove a point to her boss, so she hired us."

"Wait, wait, wait," Mercy interjected. "It wasn't the club owner who hired us? Just a _bartender?_"

"She's co-owner or something," Hutch said. "She gave Blake half of the cash as a down payment, dude."

"You've got a lot of 'or somethings' riding on this," Mercy pointed out.

"Blake can give you the full story," Hutch said. "Well... maybe not the _full_ story, unless you want to hear about how sore she is."

Mercy ran a hand down her face. "She slept with the bartender, didn't she?"

Hutch just laughed in response.

"Great, grand, okay, so what's this point that this chick is wanting to prove?" Mercy asked.

"That they need variety in their entertainment," Hutch said. "Some live performance to spice stuff up."

"We don't have any grind-up-on-the-person-next-to-you songs," Mercy reminded him. "Our music is meant to be _listened _to not just heard."

"I know, I know, and all of us care about that," Hutch assured. "And apparently that's a selling point Blake made. We're different enough to really test the bartender's theory."

"Okay. I guess we can't turn down that cash," Mercy said. "When are we doing this?"

Hutch hesitated for a moment.

"Hutch..." Mercy said in a warning tone.

"Tonight?" Hutch squeaked the word out like a question.

"Tonight?!" Mercy echoed. "We don't even have a lineup! We haven't practiced in a week!"

"So you _don't _have anything going on tonight?"

"Hutch!"

"It's not like we'll screw up," Hutch said with a laugh. "You're amazing, Mercy, you know that."

"No, it's not amazing—it's just a lot of practice which _I haven't done in a week,_" Mercy snapped.

Hutch chuckled.

"Hutch!" Mercy shouted again.

"I'm sorry! It's just, you're like the most nerdy musician I've met," Hutch said. "You're like the Hermione of alternative rock."

"Hermione got fantastic scores on her OWLS because she studied like a maniac and music is no different than magic," Mercy replied heatedly. "In fact, it's probably the closest thing we muggles _have_ to magic."

"Point taken, Professor Mercy," Hutch said, still laughing.

Mercy groaned again and shook her head, blinking up at the sky in irritation. "Fine, we'll do it. But for the love of everything, no more making last minute gigs!"

"Tell Blake," Hutch replied.

"Oh, I have _so _many words for Blake," Mercy assured. "You guys got equipment transport? I'm going to try and get a few songs in to warm up and we'll want to set up a bit early and get a good idea of the venue—"

"Dear God, Mercy, yes, we got it," Hutch interrupted. "Just get your practice in so you stop losing your mind."

Mercy smiled a little despite herself. "Thanks, Hutch."

"Always, Little Angel," Hutch said and then hung up.

Mercy sighed and flipped her cell shut. _Little Angel._ She'd gained the nickname a long time ago when they were first designing their band's logo: a halo with two wings beneath it. Miles was the one who thought it up and Blake pointed out how Mercy was their "little angel" because of how short Mercy was compared to the rest of them. It was now a tradition for Mercy to wear a shirt or hoodie with wings stylized on the back. Even their fanbase was starting to jump behind the nickname.

She still didn't know if she liked it or hated it.

Mercy readjusted her glasses and walked back onto the sidewalk and into the crowd. She didn't love the idea of performing in a nightclub, but music was something that sustained her. Without it, she wasn't sure what she was.

So the least she could do was take this as an opportunity to lose herself for the night.

* * *

Mercy was a bit surprised by how clean the alley beside Lux was. She plopped herself down on the ground, pleased that it was empty. All the people seemed eager to get into the nightclub rather than loiter about. Mercy set her guitar case on the ground next to her and ran her hand over all the stickers stamped on it. Most were from her trip to LA from Massachusetts, but there was also one from each of her bandmates.

Hutch had slapped on a cute little grim reaper that had a black hoodie and jeans instead of the usual cloak. He was tall and lanky, and their first Halloween wore just his black hoodie and jeans. When they accused him of not wearing a costume, he went to the bathroom and came back with a black skeletal skull sketched on his face. However, he had accidentally used a Sharpie instead of a washable marker and it was stuck on him for days.

Miles had placed the orange, white, and green flag of Ireland since that was where he was from. When he added it, he had apologized for not coming up with anything more unique, but Mercy loved it anyway. He had always been awkward and quiet, that was until one got to know him. Then he was nothing but puns and sass.

Blake's sticker was that of DC's Harley Quinn with her giant hammer at the ready. When Mercy first met her, it was in a comic store where Hutch had elected to introduce them. Blake had politely introduced herself and smiled before spotting a new poster of Harley Quinn and saying, "I would ride her so hard she'd forget Joker's name." Blake continued to be a bizarre mix of kindhearted sweetness and vulgar sex machine.

Close to the latches that held the case shut was a fourth sticker that someone other than Mercy had placed. She paused with her fingers over it. It was a howling arctic wolf, white fur striking against the black surface it was stuck to. Mercy let out a soft breath before undoing the latches and pulling out a blue acoustic guitar.

After carefully tuning it, Mercy began to play through a few songs, letting her fingers get back into the ease of things. She always had her guitar on her, but she didn't always play it. It wasn't usual for her to go a whole week, though. Her mind had been scattered the past few days, lost in memories. There was an anniversary approaching that she wasn't eager for. She didn't usually start reacting this early.

The notes bounced on the stone walls around her. Mercy was steadily getting into the beat of it, bobbing her head as her fingers easily danced along the neck of the guitar. The music flowed through her, pumping in her veins, refilling her soul with something that couldn't be explained but always seemed to be needed. The sun had set and the only thing illuminating the alley was the orange glow of the streetlights. Somewhere, Mercy could hear the soft clamor of the crowd waiting to get inside Lux. She played louder, trying to drown it out.

"_Come on, little dove, now let's see you fly,_" Mercy sang. "_I've seen your cage and stolen its door... I've heard your song and its lie... There were times you were so quiet... So soft and delicate... I want you to belong, I want you to belong, I want you to belong... So come on, little dove, now let's see you fly... I've been where you are... I know how hard you try... I see now you've broken a feather... But I won't let you fall, I'll take you to the sky... I want you to belong, I want you to—"_

Out of the corner of her eye, Mercy noticed that there was someone standing on the other side of the dumpster she was next to. She'd had her eyes closed for most of her performance, letting the music consume her, so she had no clue how long the person had been there. Stopping instantly, she looked over to see it was a man in an expensive-looking suit complete with a vest and tie. His neat, short hair was black and he had the slightest hint of stubble on his handsome face.

"Oh, sorry," he said in a British accent. "Don't mind me, carry on."

"Uh, are you planning on standing there?" Mercy asked.

"I am, yes," the man replied calmly. "You're quite good."

"Oookay," Mercy said as she put her guitar back into its case. "That's my cue to leave..."

"You know, you'd make a lot more cash playing on the street where people can hear you," the man pointed out. "Pop open your case in front of you and people'll toss in all sorts of money."

"I'm not playing for tips," Mercy replied, latching her case closed.

"Clearly," the man said. "So what are you playing for?"

"Myself," Mercy said, grabbing her case and getting to her feet. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" The man's gaze glittered with curiosity. There was something rather striking about it, something that seemed to tug Mercy's attention.

"Long story, and you're kind of a creeper, so I'll just be on my way," Mercy said.

"A creeper?" the man gasped, insulted. "I've never been called that in my life."

"Really?" Mercy said as she pulled the strap of her case across her to have it rest on her back. "So this is the first time you've silently watched someone when they..." She trailed off, furrowing her brow. She could see how most people might not quite understand her frustration. After all, she had a band and performed in front of people all the time. But this was different—this was meant to be just her and the music. This guy might as well have walked in while she was taking a bath.

"Yes, see, most musicians _want_ to be watched," the man said, seeming to sense her thinking. "So do forgive my misunderstanding."

"Whatever," Mercy sighed and made to walk by him and back out onto the street. The rest of her band should be arriving any minute.

"Hang on," the man said, turning toward her as she walked.

"You know, no amount of handsomeness excuses creeping," Mercy said in a warning tone as she glanced back at him.

The man seemed momentarily pleased with the half compliment. "Yes, glad you noticed. And I'm not _creeping._ I just wanted to ask a question."

"Okay?" Mercy turned fully to face him with a frown.

"I find myself intrigued that money doesn't seem to be a concern of yours. So, if not cash, what is it you desire?" the man asked. "What's you deepest, darkest want in this world?"

His eyes glistened in the soft glow of the streetlights. Once again, Mercy was vaguely aware of the pull they held. She blinked at him and took a small step back.

"My... desire?" she repeated.

"Yes," the man said with a nod. "Go on, tell me."

"Why?" Mercy asked indignantly.

Now it was the man's turn to frown. "Why?"

"Yeah, it's kind of a weird question," Mercy pointed out. "Like really weird, actually."

The man looked increasingly bewildered. "Fascinating. You're more complex than you let on."

"Allll right, my bizarre dude, I'm going to get going because I'm expected somewhere, so, uh, toodles!" Mercy said with a little wave.

"Hold on!" the man trotted after her a few steps. "What's your name?"

"Francine Dorothy Clamberbun," Mercy invented with a wave of her hand.

The man rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on."

"We're sorry, you're creep factor is too high to unlock this information," Mercy said in a mock robotic voice.

He laughed and started walking after her. "Yes, yes, very cute."

"Following is also considered creepy," Mercy said over her shoulder, maintaining her robot voice. "Creep factor has increased by 30%."

"I'm not following, I'm heading this way; it's not my fault you started walking first," the man said defensively.

"Warning! Warning!" Mercy chimed in her robotic tone as she turned around the corner and headed toward the entrance of Lux. "Creep factor nearing maximum capacity."

When she turned to smirk at him and walk backward, she saw his expression was both exasperated and amused. Mercy gave him a wave and turned to walk forward again.

Her bandmates were around the back of the building, so Mercy walked past the entire line and rounded the corner. The man stopped following her thankfully, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd see him inside. He looked wealthy enough to frequent a nightclub like Lux.

In the back, there was a small parking lot with mostly shipping trucks. Mercy spotted Hutch's van with ease. It was painted a ridiculous bright pink with black tiger stripes. He'd gotten it from his eccentric but rather rich older sister. At first, it was the only vehicle they had accessibility to that could hold all their equipment. Now they'd all grown a strange sentimental attachment to it.

"There she is!" Hutch's voice called.

He was near the back of the van with the double doors opened. Hutch was the tallest of their group at a whopping 6'5. His light brown hair was strategically messy and his eyes were a pale green. His angular jaw along with his straight, defined nose gave him a handsome face. They already had "groupies" that adored him.

"How long have you been here?" Mercy asked.

"Not long." Miles walked around the other side of the van. He was tall as well, at 6'2, but any time he stood next to Hutch he was dwarfed. His dark hair was curly and reached down to his chin. His face was longer and his eyes were bright blue. Mercy always found him adorable rather than handsome.

"Surprised we beat you here, though," Hutch said. "You're usually so punctual."

"I was in the alley one the other side," Mercy explained. "Practiced for a couple hours, kinda got lost in the music. Then this creeper guy came up and started watching me."

"Do I need to beat someone up?"

Blake came from the propped open back door of the building. She was tall and lean with a near perfect figure. Mercy always felt rather plain and flat next to her curvy friend. Blake's hair was dyed a brilliant pink and cropped short. Her makeup was elegant and she designed her eyeliner wings in curling butterfly wing-like formation. All in all, she was stupidly gorgeous.

"No, no," Mercy assured. "I don't even know if he was fully a creeper. Maybe just a weirdo."

"There's a difference?" Miles asked. Mercy had told him on multiple occasions that he could talk her to sleep every night because of how much she loved his accent.

"Of course," Mercy said. "Creepers carry roofies, weirdos are just weird."

Hutch laughed. "And how exactly was this guy weird? 'Cause he was watching you play?"

"Nah, he just asked some strange questions," Mercy said. She waved off the subject. "I'll tell you later, let's get set up and make sure the sound is all good. We start in an hour?"

"And a half," Blake said as she pulled out another piece of her drum set from the back of the van. "Plenty of time, Astroid, plenty of time."

Mercy rolled her eyes at the nickname and started helping them unload the equipment.

The area where they were set to play had been sectioned off from the rest of the club until they were ready. Yet even without the lights and the people and the dancers, Mercy could tell this place was used to being occupied by party-loving crowds. However at the same time, there was a certain elegance to it. Like Hutch told her, it had class.

The tables were round and had curved padded benches hugging them covered in sleek dark leather. There were not only lights overhead, but also on the floor around the seats. There were also some round platforms with lights beneath them; for dancers, Mercy guessed. At least there weren't any poles. On the far right side of the room was a bar with black countertops and an lavish selection of alcohol behind it.

On the opposite end of the room from the bar was an exquisite grand piano. Its black surface reflected the lights above and the keys gleamed like chips of ice. Mercy felt a small itch to go play it, but she resisted and set to getting their equipment up.

As Mercy helped Miles set up the last few amps, an elevator next to the bar opened. A black woman that just as gorgeous and curvaceous as Blake walked out. Her long dark hair was straight and her makeup (if there was any) was done in such a way it looked natural. At least she was closer to Mercy's height of 5'2 rather than Blake's (5'10).

The woman smiled widely at Blake first and gave her a sly wink. Blake smirked back at her and licked her lips suggestively.

"The bartender, I presume," Mercy murmured to Miles.

"Aye," Miles said, smiling a bit.

"Guys, this is Maze," Blake said, gesturing to the woman.

"Hey," Hutch said, extending a hand toward her. "Thanks for having us. Means a lot."

Maze eyes his hand for a moment before taking it and giving it a shake. "Blake assures me you guys have a lot to offer."

Hutch chuckled nervously. "Well, I hope we hold up to her praises and she didn't overshoot us."

"C'mon, we're awesome!" Blake crowed confidently as she wrapped an arm around Hutch's shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

Mercy turned back to fixing the amps. Hutch was the main front man when it came to talking to both venue owners and audiences. Though Mercy was lead singer, she wasn't big on talking with strangers much, and whenever she did, she often joked her way into an awkward retreat.

"So, Save My Hero," Maze mused. "Where'd that name come from?"

"You'd have to ask Mercy," Hutch said.

Mercy looked over her shoulder, tempted to glare at Hutch for putting her in the spotlight. Maze met her gaze and perked a brow questioningly. The bartenders demeanor was confident and oddly sensual. She had her arms folded and most of her weight on her left leg, which cocked her hip out.

"Uh..." Mercy pursed her lips briefly. "It's complicated."

"Yeah, but you're the only one who can explain it," Blake said. "Or understands it."

Mercy wanted to turn back to the amps even though they were finished setting them up. She got the question quite a lot; most bands did. It was rather infuriating to her.

"Um..." Mercy got to her feet and turned to face the others fully. "Well, it's kind of a ironic name, right? Usually the Hero is the one doing the saving. But Save My Hero says that sometimes even a hero needs saving and sometimes a normal everyday person can do the saving. It kind of represents both hope and giving yourself a break. Even if you're a hero, it's cool to take a break—it's cool to have weakness."

Maze blinked a few times. "Uh, all right. That still doesn't really answer my question."

"It doesn't?" Mercy tilted her head to the side.

"No," Maze replied. "I mean, why did you choose this... ironic name?"

"Oh. I get it," Mercy said. "Um, well, I had someone in my life when I was young that I saw as my hero. He thought of himself as the hero as well. But he... he messed up one day and he was the one that needed saving."

"So you saved him?" Maze seemed amused more than anything else. Mercy wasn't exactly used to that reaction to this story.

"Uh, no..." Mercy said, shaking her head. "No, I didn't. Um, Miles, let's get to sound testing and mic checks, yeah?"

"Yeah," Miles agreed readily, happy to help her change the subject.

Maze gave a small smile before turning around and heading toward the bar. Mercy furrowed her brow. A woman that saw amusement in misfortune of others wasn't one she wanted to associate with. She hoped that there wouldn't be any hiccups tonight, but at least if there were maybe she could send Blake to do the talking.

It didn't take them long to get the sound set up just right. Mercy pulled out her blue acoustic guitar as Hutch grabbed his red electric one. Miles had a black bass guitar and Blake had her set of white drums. On the bass drum was their band's logo: the halo with the wings beneath. Maze came back out from behind the bar and smiled widely at it.

"Oh, that is perfect," she crowed.

"Why do you say that?" Hutch asked as he tuned his guitar.

"Oh, you'll see when my boss gets here." Maze continued to grin as she walked across the room.

Once again Mercy wondered if they were going to get in trouble for this. Did Maze really have the authority to hire them? Mercy wasn't keen on the actual owner of the club coming in and kicking them out; that wouldn't be the best for their reputation.

Mercy turned around and hooked her acoustic guitar up to the amps. She strummed it a few times to check the sound and smiled when it came through crystal clear. Behind her, the elevator pinged and footsteps entered the room.

"Maze, why in the world is this floor sanctioned off from our guests?" said a man's voice in a British accent.

"No way," Mercy breathed and looked over her shoulder.

It was the guy from the alley, the sharply-dressed man with an outrageously handsome face. He was walking into the room with his eyes on Maze first, but then he noticed that there were people and band equipment on the small stage. Mercy turned her head quickly away before he could recognize her.

"What's this?" the man asked.

"Our night's entertainment," Maze replied.

"Since when do we have a live band?" the man demanded.

"Since yesterday," Maze said. Mercy could almost hear the smirk in her voice.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the man pressed. Mercy could hear him approaching the stage.

"Hey, so I take it your Maze's boss?" Hutch said, hopping off the stage to greet him.

"Yes," the man confirmed. "Owner of Lux at your service. Maze, seriously, why do we have a band here?"

"It might bring in new clientele," Maze said.

"Bloody hell, is this about that stupid argument we had last week?" the man groaned.

"Humans are predictable and boring," Maze insisted. "You place the correct flame and the moths will come."

"I can't believe that conversation remained in your memory, let alone enough to cause you to pull this spiteful move," the man muttered.

"Uh, I hope it's not a problem that we preform?" Hutch said warily.

The man sighed. "Oh, you can stay. I suppose it changes things up a bit."

Mercy remained with her back turned to him, clutching her guitar tightly. What would he do if he recognized her? Would his hospitality end because of how she talked to him outside? Would he kick them out?

_Of course he's the freakin' owner of the club,_ Mercy thought sourly. _That's just my luck._

Carefully, Mercy pulled the hood of her jacket up and over her head; her long wavy ginger hair wasn't exactly inconspicuous. A string of curses went through her mind as she tried to think of a plan.

Miles seemed to notice her plight. He was further back on the stage, finishing up with the amps. He frowned at her and pointed to his head, indicating he was wondering why she pulled up her hood. Mercy pressed her lips into a tight line and started shaking her head, but then behind her, there was a soft gasp.

"Wait a minute..." the man said. "I've seen that jacket before—the girl from the alley?"

Miles' eyes grew wide and Mercy closed her eyes in torment briefly before straightening and turning around. She smiled sheepishly and gave the man a little wave. The man laughed and looked around at their setup and the other members.

"So their _is _some desire for money, then." The man smirked victoriously. "I can't imagine Maze offered anything less than two grand each."

"Money equals food and rent and more stuff for the band," Mercy told him.

The man laughed again and shook his head.

"I don't understand, you know her?" Maze asked.

"Not exactly," the man said. "We met briefly in the alley about an hour ago. Well, at least I know that my guests have decent entertainment, with your voice."

"This is the creeper from the alley?" Blake exclaimed, looking between Mercy and the man.

"Again with the _creeper_ thing," the man sighed. "I heard music, I went to investigate and was momentarily enthralled." He smiled toward Mercy. "It's hardly my fault."

The priority of keeping the gig slipped from Mercy's mind and she rolled her eyes. "Flattery doesn't excuse creeping."

Hutch laughed nervously and held out his hands toward each of them. "Ah, heh, she's kidding. Mercy loves to kid. Cheeky one, that."

"_Mercy?_" the man echoed, furrowing his brow and looking at her. "Your name is _Mercy?_"

Mercy stood up straighter. "What's wrong with that?"

"It's very on the nose, isn't it?" the man said with a small chuckle.

"Well, what's your name, then?" Mercy demanded. "Harry Potter?"

"Ha, very original," the man scoffed. "And no, it's Lucifer Morningstar."

Mercy blinked a few times and exchanged bewildered looks with her bandmates.

"Lucifer Morningstar," Mercy repeated, staring back at him.

He nodded. "God-given name, I'm afraid."

"That... that's pretty bold, good on you," Hutch said.

"It isn't _bold,_ it's my name," Lucifer replied.

"You had some weird parents then," Blake said.

"You've no idea," Lucifer murmured. He suddenly spotted the drum set and the band's emblem on it. "Angel wings?"

"Save My Hero's mascot, I guess you could call it," Hutch explained. "Well, and representing Mercy; our Little Angel."

"Don't tell him about that," Mercy hissed.

Lucifer laughed again. "Little Angel! Maze..." He looked over at his bartender. "You picked them on purpose!"

"I didn't know about the angel bit until they got here," Maze said. "It just made it perfect."

"Oh right, because he's Lucifer," Miles muttered, probably too softly for Lucifer or Maze to hear. "Cute."

"All right, well how about we get this show on the road?" Hutch said, clapping his hands together. Mercy had a feeling he wanted to start playing before Lucifer changed his mind and kicked them out.

"I'll open the floodgates," Maze said before walking out of the room.

Mercy adjusted her mic and her guitar's strap. Lucifer was eyeing her with a furrowed brow as she did so. She frowned over at him.

"You're really not helping your creep factor, buddy," she said.

Lucifer snorted softly, but his expression remained pensive. "What makes your different?"

"What?" Mercy blinked in confusion.

"You're different," Lucifer said. "You don't react the same to me. Do you prefer women?"

"If only," Blake groaned from her seat behind the drums.

Mercy shot her a look with a brow perked. Blake shrugged innocently.

"You're like a pocket-sized fairy," she said. "Who _wouldn't_ want to tap that?"

"I'm... flattered?" The words came out of Mercy's mouth like a question and Blake laughed.

"Are you saying you're the ultimate chick-magnet?" Hutch asked their host.

Lucifer smirked wickedly. "I deal in desires. Women and men who have even the slightest liking to men tend to fall into my lap."

"Wow, you're confident," Hutch said with a surprised chuckle.

To Mercy's left, she heard Miles shifting his feet about. She glanced toward him and saw that he didn't seem comfortable. He kept casting furtive glances toward Lucifer and pursing his lips. Mercy's eyes widened a bit. Was there... truth in Lucifer's words? Miles was bisexual, though his preference was women. He'd had a few boyfriends, but they never panned out.

"Ah, see?" Lucifer noticed Miles now and smiled widely at him. "He knows what I'm talking about."

"Miles?" Blake said, looking over at their bassist with a shocked expression.

"I-I dunno what he's talking about," Miles stammered quickly. "It's just a bit toasty in here, yeah? Sh-should've brought the fans in."

"Miles, I'm telling you this because you're my best friend," Hutch said, holding his hand out toward him from the right side of the stage. "You've got a happy little friend in your pants."

Miles looked down and his eyes widened in mortification. He turned around briskly, clearly embarrassed. "Guess I'll just play like this tonight," he murmured.

Lucifer chuckled. "Relax, it isn't your fault. It'll pass." He locked his eyes on Mercy. "So if you're not into girls, what is it?"

"I dunno, I don't just fall over any handsome rich guy?" Mercy said.

"Like I do?" Miles snapped at her.

Mercy wordlessly gestured to his groin.

"Okay, okay, this is not my fault," Miles insisted.

Blake started giggling. Lucifer was merely smiling smugly. Hutch was clearly trying not to laugh as he looked over at Miles.

"All right, normally I detest his type," Miles pressed. "The smug, sharp-dressed douches are things I typically try to avoid."

"Hey!" Lucifer said, insulted.

Before anymore could be said, people started trickling in from the stairwell and the elevator. Lucifer turned as the crowd began to gather around, their expression pleasantly curious.

"Hello, everyone," Lucifer greeted them. "Apparently we have a different form of live entertainment tonight! Yes, I know, it's less tits and ass, but I've been assured their quite good." He smirked back toward the stage.

Hutch was still trying to recover from his amusement at Miles' predicament. He gripped his mic and smiled out at the crowd.

"Hello darlings, we're Save My Hero and we're here to offer such cliches as: How Are You All Doing Tonight? And, Are You Ready to Party? And of course, Stop Talking and Play the Music Already!"

A few laughs could be heard from the crowd before Blake opened their first song with a quick rap of one of her cymbals. The other instruments busted in, all except for Mercy's acoustic; this first song was meant to get the crowd pumped and excited before they toned down.

Despite the anxiety that came from being in such a place and dealing with Lucifer, Mercy lost herself into the music. She didn't even see the people anymore as Hutch's guitar purred on her right, Miles' bass blossomed on her left, and Blake's drums thudded life up through her feet.

"_She likes '20s tunes and '50s diners, she likes karaoke and setting fires,_" Mercy sang. "_She comes from the deep, deep dark. She comes from where you've never been. She's a storm with no end, she's a vampire you'll let in. Don't, don't, don't, don't pretend to know. Don't, don't, don't, don't go down that low. Don't, don't, don't, don't tell her your name. Don't, don't, don't, don't think she's the same."_

Mercy bounced around as the music swelled throughout the room. _Don't_ was one of their more upbeat songs; one people could dance to. A "boppin'" song as Miles called it. It was always a good one to open with. As they went on through the song, the crowd got into it. Mercy opened her eyes a few times to see them happily jumping and dancing around each other. Luckily there was no vertical dry sex; their music wasn't geared for that, but some people did it anyway.

When the song came to an end, there was cheering and applause. Mercy backed off the mic to grab a water bottle that was waiting on the stool behind her. Hutch took to it in her stead, grinning out at the people.

"Thanks, thank you," he said.

Mercy spotted Lucifer sitting at the bar toward the far right of the room. He was turned to face the stage with a glass of dark liquor in one hand. His expression seemed pensive and slightly pleased. His eyes met Mercy's and his smile grew. He lifted his glass toward her in a cheers motion. Despite herself, Mercy gave a small grin back.

They did one more boppin' song while the energy of the crowd was still high. They seemed to get into it even morel; that, or they were a bit more tipsy. Miles eventually turned to face the crowd as he performed, apparently over his momentary... distraction. Mercy spotted Maze in the crowd of people, swaying her hips and hopping around from person to person. She still didn't understand what point the bartender was been trying to make to her boss.

When their second song came rolling to a stop, the people gave them more applause. Mercy grabbed her water again and saw Blake looked like she was pumped but there was sweat beading on her forehead and she was slightly out of breath.

"Ballad?" Mercy asked her as Hutch talked to the crowd behind her.

"Nah, nah, I can handle a... a folky?" Blake said.

"You sure?" Mercy said, perking a brow.

"Yeah, yeah, then ballad next." Blake waved her off with a drumstick.

Mercy chuckled and turned back around to Hutch and Miles.

"We're doing a folky," she told them.

Folky meant a song that was acoustic but still had a rather fast rhythm and even some electric guitar in the back. That was their main type of music.

They played three of them for the crowd. Ludicrous, which was about an insane night out with someone who claimed to be a wizard. Ashen Days, a slower, more somber song that focused on war. Then I Still Write With a Quill, which was in the point of view of the same crazy wizard from Ludicrous.

"Last song of the night," Hutch prompted when they finished out.

"Uh, another folky?" Mercy suggested.

"Which one?" Miles prompted.

Mercy pondered briefly before grinning. "Soul Eater."

Hutch began to smirk. "Are you trying to get us kicked out?"

Blake laughed behind them. "It's perfect! We're so doing it!"

"Oh Lord almighty," Miles sighed before readjusting his bass and thrumming out the beginning notes.

It was low and pounding to begin with, like a slow heartbeat being pushed through the body. Then Mercy gripped her acoustic guitar for the first time, and began to strum out a catchy, pleasant tune.

"_Down at the crossroads, there's a deal waiting for you,"_ Mercy sang, tapping her foot. "_It won't cost much, and he'll swear you'll come out new. Just listen close 'cause he won't be repeating. He's got one price and boy, you might think you're leaving, but no, no, no, no, no, 'cause it's your soul he's eating. Hey!_"

She strummed the catchy tune again, bobbing her head to the beat. At the bar she spotted Lucifer. To her surprise, he looked more amused than ever. She couldn't look long before the chorus was there.

"_He's got no care, he doesn't mind your crime, he's only there to eat one soul at a time. So you best wish your loved ones well. He'll lift you up just to drag you back to Hell._"

The crowd gave a cheer and Mercy saw Lucifer chuckling to himself near the bar. She wasn't sure what sort of reaction she was expecting, but this wasn't it. Regardless, she was oddly pleased. For a guy named Lucifer, he was pretty laid back.

"_Down at the crossroads, there's a deal waiting for me,_" Mercy sang on. "_He says it won't cost much, but I'm starting to see. He says to listen close 'cause he won't be repeating. He thinks it's his song I'm singing, but no, no, no, no, no, 'cause it won't be my soul he's eating. Hey!_"

Now Lucifer looked a bit conflicted. He peered toward the stage with a furrowing brow.

"_He's got no care, he doesn't mind my crime, he's only there to eat one soul at a time. So I best not hear the lies he wants to tell, or it'll be my soul he's dragging back to Hell._"

It was time for the bridge. The music slowed and Mercy leaned close to the mic and closed her eyes.

"_Down, down, down in the depths of his domain, do you think that there's a place where he's humane? Is there any coming back from devouring so many souls, or maybe is it that he's just making them pay their tolls?_"

The music swelled again and Mercy came in the last chorus with more power in her voice.

"_He just might care, he thinks about your crimes, he's not just there to eat one soul at a time. So you best remember how far you fell, Before you realize he's dragging you down to Hell._"

The song closed with one last burst of the folk-like music before fading off. Once again, they were applauded. Mercy looked across toward the bar for Lucifer, but he was gone. She frowned slightly, but went to drink her water anyway. Maybe she went too far with the song. Or maybe he went to the bathroom.

"Thank you!" Hutch went to the mic to give their goodbye speech.

As he talked, Mercy grabbed her water bottle and headed off the stage to the back right of it where it was gated off from the crowd. She wanted to be out of the spotlight as much as possible.

"You're quite the paradox, aren't you?"

Mercy startled and choked on her mouthful of water. She coughed and turned, eyes watering, to see Lucifer leaning on the wall a few feet away. He was eyeing her curiously but chuckled at her predicament.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said.

"Yeah, okay," Mercy rasped, still clearing her throat. "You've already done it twice in one day."

"Apologies," Lucifer shrugged off the wall and stepped closer to her. "Fun little song at the end there."

"You like it?" Mercy said before taking another careful drink of water to help her now raw throat.

"Did you write it?" Lucifer asked rather than answering her.

"Erm..." Mercy shifted s little. "Yeah. I write most of our stuff."

"Where'd you get the idea?" Lucifer asked. "About the Devil being... more of a jailor than a monster?"

"I mean, the whole reason we're taught to fear Hell is 'cause he's there," Mercy replied.

"Not at the moment, but I see what you mean," Lucifer murmured. "So you don't see the Devil as a monster?"

"Uh, well, not a monster unless you deserve him to be, if that makes sense..." Mercy said, shrugging awkwardly. "Why? Is it because you go by Lucifer?"

"I don't _go by_ Lucifer, I _am_ Lucifer," Lucifer replied. "Now you... you don't like being the center of attention or around people, yet you do this for a living?"

"Wait, wait, wait." Mercy held up a finger to him. "You're saying _you're_ Lucifer?"

"Yes," he replied, putting his hands into his trouser pockets and leaning back.

"Like... _the_ Lucifer? Fallen angel, the Devil himself?" Mercy pressed.

"_Yes,_ or Beelzebub, Satan, Old Scratch... I actually like that one." Lucifer shrugged carelessly.

Mercy blinked rapidly. "Wh... why in the world would the Devil be so open about his identity? And why does he own a nightclub?"

"Got tired of Hell, decided to come to Earth and play around with all these humans dear Dad loves so much," Lucifer replied. "So far it's been quite fun."

Mercy eyed him in sheer disbelief. "You... this is a bit, right? Or-or a stage persona?"

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "No, but if that's what you want to tell yourself for the time being, so be it. Now, my question? Why are you the lead singer in an up-and-coming rock band when you detest the spot light?"

Mercy stared at him for a moment longer. Did he seriously think he was the Devil? Was he delusional? Or was he just really committing to his character? She recalled Miles' embarrassing tightening pants issue and how Lucifer asked about her desires in the alley. He'd been so shocked when she didn't answer him.

But there was no way. It was impossible.

She put it aside for the time being. The rest of her bandmates were starting to take down the equipment and people were filing out of the room. Apparently Maze was closing off this part of the club so they could get their stuff out in relative peace. Mercy would be expected to help them.

"The... music, I suppose," Mercy said. "That's what made Hutch and me bond when I first came to LA, and it just kind of... snowballed, I guess?"

Lucifer snorted softly in amusement. "You never wanted it to get big, did you?"

"Mercy!" Blake's voice called from the small stage. "You gonna help or what? No turning into the self-centered asshole rockstar on us now!"

Mercy laughed softly and gestured over her shoulder with a thumb. "Duty calls."

As she started to turn around, Lucifer asked, "Am I still a creeper?"

Mercy glanced back at him and smiled. "Nah. Just a weirdo."

"There's a difference?" Lucifer perked a brow.

Mercy laughed. It was the same response she'd gotten from her friends.

"Creepers carry roofies," she explained. "Weirdos are just weird."

With a wink and a smirk, Mercy got onto the stage and helped take down the equipment.

* * *

Sitting up in bed, Mercy stretched and pulled some of her ginger locks out of her eyes. On her nightstand, her flip phone buzzed across the wooden surface, indicating a text. Mercy reached over and grabbed it.

It was from Blake.

_Hey, so remember Mr. Creeper?_

Mercy frowned and texted back, _He's just Mr. Weirdo now. But yeah?_

_Whatever lol. Well Maze says he's asking about you._

Mercy pursed her lips into a tight line. She couldn't deny that she'd thought of Lucifer since their gig. She had an incredible amount of mixed feelings. There was their first bizarre encounter in the alley, then his confession to being the Devil himself after their performance. She couldn't decide if he was crazy or just plain strange.

_Okay...?_ she replied.

_He wants to talk about getting the band to play weekly,_ Blake texted.

Mercy's brows shot up. _Seriously?_

_ Legit. And the pay is even more legit._

_ ?_

_ Five grand each, per performance._

Mercy gaped at the message. This guy was willing to shell out $20,000 a week for them to play at his club? That was insane, even for LA standards. How much money did he make?

_We'd be rich in like, one month!_ Black texted when Mercy didn't reply straight away. _I know it's not your scene but shit, can't argue with all those dolla dolla bills._

Mercy rubbed her brow for a moment. _Have you talked to Hutch and Miles?_

_ Of course, Hutch is basically the manager, yeah? He's stoked. Miles is a little nervous being around Mr. Weirdo again after his incident, but again: dolla dolla bills, ya'll._

Mercy let out a long breath. She couldn't very well deny her bandmates this opportunity. If anything, it would allow them to get a decent amount of cash in case Mercy ever had to leave. She knew she wasn't the heart and soul of the band; each of them brought something irreplaceable. But she didn't want to leave her friends in the dust, regardless.

_Why doesn't he just talk to Hutch?_ Mercy asked.

_Told Maze that. Apparently he wants to talk to you._

Mercy ran a hand down her face. She wasn't certain if she should be concerned or not at that. Super rich guy claiming to be Satan wants to talk to her in person... how totally not uncomfortable.

_I know it sounds kinda more creepish than weirdish, but Maze assures me that the guy is legit. No lies, no roofies, you know._

_ Oh great, that's reassuring, _Mercy replied. _You're still hanging out with that Maze chick?_

_Dude, you have no idea how amazing the sex is; I'm not going anywhere until she tells me to._

_ TMI_

_ You asked!_

Mercy chuckled to herself and sighed before typing, _Tell Mr. Weirdo I'll come by later today to discuss._

_Sweet potatoes, my dude. I'll let the guys know. Beep me when done?_

_ Yeah, course._

_ Possum._

Possum was Blake's way of saying "awesome" that she thought was totally original. It tended to make Mercy giggle, though, especially because of the confused looks she sometimes got.

Once Mercy was dressed, she headed out to go over to Lux. The club wasn't nearly as lively during the day, which wasn't surprising. She went into the elevator and headed up to the same floor the main bar and stage was where they performed. The large room was pleasantly lit and Piano music floated toward her.

Sitting at the grand piano deeper in the room was Lucifer. His head was down and he was playing beautifully. Mercy didn't recognize the song, but it was complex and elegant. Lucifer rolled the notes into one another; he didn't miss a single key. Mercy was momentarily enthralled. She stared as his hands moved fluidly and music swelled from the magnificent instrument.

Then, Lucifer looked up and spotted her. Rather than ending the song abruptly, he smiled and carefully drew it to a close, letting the last notes float in the air like feathers.

"So, it looks like it's you who's the creeper now," he teased as he got to his feet.

Mercy's cheeks heated. "Oh, ha ha," she said sarcastically. "I didn't expect you to be talented, is all."

Lucifer looked hurt. "Ouch, Little Angel, that was rude."

"Don't call me that," Mercy said as she stepped further into the room. "I'm here to talk business. Blake said you were interested in hiring us as regulars?"

"Yes," Lucifer said and walked across the room to her. He sat down at the bar and patted the stool next to him.

Mercy pressed her lips into a tight line briefly before going over and sitting down. There were some papers on the table which Lucifer picked up and shuffled through.

"For once, Maze had the right of things," he said. "Your performance resonated with my guests. We've gotten inquiries about your next show, and even some new customers that heard you played here. Fans of yours, I'm guessing. You have quite the following online."

"Yes, well, when you don't tour, internet is the only way to really reach out," Mercy said.

"Mm, I noticed that." Lucifer put the papers down and turned to face her while leaning on the bar. "Why is it that you don't travel? As popular as you are, you've never performed out of California."

"I'm a homebody." Mercy smiled tightly.

"Yet LA has only been your home for three years," Lucifer replied.

Mercy narrowed her eyes. "Have you been internet stalking me?"

"I wanted to know more about all of you before extending the job offer," Lucifer said. "Hutch is a Californian, born and raised. Miles came in from Ireland six years ago with his mother and brother so they could live with his dear step father. Blake is from Wyoming of all places—how such a fun person came from there is beyond me. Then there's you."

Lucifer eyed Mercy as he leaned closer to her. His gaze was piercing and hungry for knowledge.

"The paper trail for Mercy Townsend raised some questions," Lucifer murmured. "Save My Hero was founded a little under three years back and according to Hutch's social media, you're from Massachusetts and arrived here about five months before you officially started the band. No father to speak of—runaway father or something I assume—and your mother died in a car crash. Other than that, no family to speak of. You went to school for a number of years and have yourself a masters in criminal psychology, yet you have no job in that department, you never have."

"Why does my past matter?" Mercy asked, leaning back a bit as discomfort tightened her spine.

"Because I am a curious individual and most of the time, people will tell me things," Lucifer explained. "But you didn't. You _don't_."

"Is that the entire reason you want to hire us?" Mercy demanded. "So you can keep poking and prodding at me?"

Lucifer finally leaned back and smirked. "Would you _like _me to poke and prod you?" he asked, bouncing one brow suggestively.

"Wow," Mercy said, unimpressed. "Is this how you get those women and men to 'fall into your lap?'"

Lucifer blinked then chuckled softly. "Yes, actually. Again, another curiosity of yours. So, about my offer."

He pushed some papers across the table toward her. Mercy picked them up and scanned them carefully.

"All the terms are in there," Lucifer said. "I'm quite honorable when it comes to my deals. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

"This is a contract for two years," Mercy said, looking up at him in shock.

"Well, that's just how much I like you lot," Lucifer replied. "The pay isn't fixed either—it'll never go down, but it can go up depending on how much business you bring."

"Okay, just... let me read all this," Mercy insisted.

Lucifer merely nodded and sat back.

Mercy diligently looked over all the papers. It was clearly a phenomenal deal. The cash was amazing and they only had to play once a week. They were still free to play other gigs, given holidays and medical, dental, and optical insurance with no extra cost. There was even 401K. The only part that was worrisome to Mercy was that two year stipulation. Was she really ready to sign off ten years? She'd be stuck in LA. Then again, she decided to put her roots down here. But if something happened... if someone came for her...

"I'll have to talk to the others about this time restraint thing," Mercy said when she finished. "Do you mind if I take a copy of this?"

"That one's yours," Lucifer said. "Take your time deciding, I understand it's a lot to think about."

Mercy exhaled softly, looking the papers over one more time before putting them into her satchel at her hip.

"Is your hair naturally that ginger?" Lucifer queried.

Mercy considered him for a moment before replying, "Yeah. Sorry that I'm soulless; you can't take what isn't there, Mr. Devil."

Lucifer snorted in amusement. "I don't steal souls. They're sent to Hell and I punish them. They're given to me, if you think about it."

He stood up and reached over the counter to grab a bottle of brown liquor and a glass. Mercy eyed him as he popped the bottle open and began to pour himself a drink.

"You really think you're the Devil?" she asked him quietly.

"I _know_ I'm the Devil, there's a difference," Lucifer said, setting the bottle aside and downing his drink in one quick gulp.

Mercy shook her head slowly. "Why're you so open about it?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" Lucifer replied. "It's not like I can be hunted down and burned at the stake as a witch. I'm quite invulnerable, you see. Can't be cut, can't be shot, can't bleed. So why waste time pretending I'm something I'm not? I haven't the patience for it. Besides, I'm not a liar."

"The Devil doesn't lie?" Mercy said incredulously.

"Yes, contrary to popular belief, I am always true to my word," Lucifer insisted. "Well, I occasionally will tell a small white lie, but nothing substantial."

Mercy looked him over with a pensive expression. "If this is one big leg-pull, I _will_ punch you."

"Well that's rude," Lucifer replied indignantly.

"I mean if you are just joking around with this Devil crap," Mercy said. "As of now, I believe that _you_ believe in what you're saying."

"Suppose that's progress," Lucifer said with a shrug and grabbed the bottle to poor another drink.

Mercy sighed and got to her feet. "I'm going to call Hutch and tell him about your proposal. Figure I can get them to come up here so if they have any questions they can ask you directly. But we will need to talk over some things before any agreement can be made."

"Fair enough." Lucifer raised his glass. "Anything's negotiable. Except for my time frame."

"The two year thing is the one part you won't budge on?" Mercy exclaimed.

Lucifer smiled widely. "What can I say? I'd like time to figure something out."

"Figure something out?" Mercy echoed.

"Go call your friends," Lucifer said with a wave of his hand. "Best get this all out of the way before guests start arriving."

Mercy sighed and turned around to walk toward the little area at the foot of a staircase leading up to the next floor. It was secluded from the rest of the room and Mercy felt more comfortable ringing Hutch where Lucifer couldn't hear.

Her friend answered after three rings.

"What's the deal?" he asked instantly.

"You really are excited about this, huh?" Mercy asked.

"Dude, that's some insane cash he's offering," Hutch said. "Are you game?"

"I don't know," Mercy admitted. "The contract is sound. This comes with benefits, can you believe that?"

"Like medical?"

"Yeah, and vision and dental. And the pay rate isn't fixed. Can't go lower, but can always go higher."

"I'm failing to see why you're hesitating."

"The contract is for two years."

Hutch was silent for a moment.

"That's a bit of a stretch," he admitted. "But, I mean, we don't tour anyway. Are you planning on going anywhere in two years?"

"I mean, no?" Mercy frowned. "Maybe? I dunno. I suppose I prefer having my options open to me."

Hutch didn't respond. Mercy waited a few seconds in rising anticipation. When Hutch remained silent, she squirmed a little.

"I wouldn't just ditch you guys, you know that," she assured.

When Hutch was still quiet, Mercy looked at her cell's screen to see if the call dropped. It still showed she was connected to him, but the timer on the call wasn't moving. Mercy punched a few buttons, but nothing happened. Her phone had froze up.

"Stupid old piece of junk," she muttered as she flipped it over and opened the back to take the battery out. The good ol' turn it off and back on again trick usually fixed things.

However, even when the battery was out and in her hand, her phone's screen remained on—still stuck at the same thing. Mercy blinked rapidly, looking from the phone to the battery. How was it doing that? It didn't make any sense.

Then she heard the sound of voices from inside the main room near the bar. Mercy quietly walked over to the edge of the stairs to peek over the railing into the room. Lucifer was still seated at the bar, but there was someone approaching him. It was a tall, handsome black man wearing a strange sleeveless outfit. It was gray in color, and seemed to be a vest-type garment on top while the bottom fanned out in a long skirt. The man had short facial hair and a shaved head.

"...what Father sent me here for," the newcomer was saying, eyeing Lucifer with rising irritation. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"Well, brother, look at my face and do tell me if you see any cares there," Lucifer replied curtly.

Mercy only just then noticed something incredibly peculiar; the bottle of alcohol that Lucifer had been drinking from was suspended _in midair._ Dark fluid was pouring a stream into the glass below it, but it was frozen, as if time had paused.

Blinking several times in the hopes of seeing something different, Mercy gaped at the astonishing sight. She looked down at her cell phone again—at the screen that was still lit despite her taking the battery out.

_This isn't happening,_ she thought numbly.

"Lucifer, be reasonable," the man said, glaring at Lucifer as he reached his side. "What do you think happens down there when you're gone? The demons, the tortured souls, where do you think they all go?"

"Don't know, don't care," Lucifer said tightly. "Daddy Dearest is just going to have to send someone else."

Mercy closed her eyes tightly for a moment.

_He wasn't kidding. He isn't delusional. He's really..._

"He isn't going to do that," the man said.

"Amenadiel, do I have to escort you out of my club?" Lucifer snapped. "I'm trying to conduct business here."

"Business," Amenadiel scoffed. "This is your pathetic excuse to toy with and abuse humans."

"I do not abuse them unless they deserve it... or want it," Lucifer argued. "I was sick of Hell, so I left. I'm not staying there because Dad plot me down to discipline his rebellious toys. I'm living my life for myself now, and it's been lovely."

"You don't get to just—" Amenadiel began.

"What, _rebel?_" Lucifer said venomously. "What's He going to do, cast me out of Heaven? Please."

As Lucifer rolled his eyes, he caught sight of Mercy peering at them from around the stair railing. Oddly, Mercy got the inclination to dart backward out of sight, but the damage had already been done. She crouched down and clenched her fists around her phone and battery. There was an agonizing moment of silence, then someone finally spoke.

"If I have to ask you to leave one more time, it isn't going to be nicely," Lucifer snarled. "Get out."

"You will return to Hell, Lucifer," Amenadiel promised. "Sooner or later, you will."

Lucifer reached over and grabbed the suspended bottle of alcohol and shoed Amenadiel off with a wave of his hand as if the towering man was a pesky begging seagull. Amenadiel sneered momentarily before turning around and walking out of Mercy's line of sight. After a few seconds, there was the sound of flapping wings and a small gust of air went across the room.

The alcohol in Lucifer's hand started flowing again. He poured his glass then set the bottle down and let out a long exhale as he drummed his fingers on the bar.

"All right, stop lurking back there and come sit down," he called as he reached over the bar and grabbed a second glass. "Some whiskey ought to make this a bit easier."

Mercy slowly walked out from around the stairs. She looked down at her phone and saw the screen was black. It finally registered that the battery was missing. Shaking her head, Mercy went to the bar and sat back down in the stool next to Lucifer. He poured another drink into the second glass as Mercy wordlessly set her phone and battery on the bar.

Lucifer slid the glass over to her. Mercy picked it up and drained it in one gulp. It burned as it went down: whiskey. She wasn't a big drinker and instantly started coughing. Lucifer patted her back.

"That was my brother, Amenadiel," Lucifer explained. "I'm assuming that you've never seen time slow like that?"

Mercy shook her head as she wiped her mouth.

"Yes, well, I've never seen a human immune to it, so we've both had a first today," Lucifer said. "I don't get a lot of those."

Mercy stared at her empty glass for a moment, the burn of the whiskey still tingling her throat. She pursed her lips before reaching over and grabbing the bottle and pouring twice as much as Lucifer had into her glass. Lucifer chuckled and rubbed his brow.

"Are you planning to just drink it away?" Lucifer asked.

Mercy grabbed her glass and took a big gulp. After coughing a bit more she exhaled sharply and tapped her fingers on the counter a few times.

"Well, at least you weren't pulling my leg," she rasped.

Lucifer chuckled again. "You're taking it rather well."

"Am I?" Mercy said, surprised. "That's nice."

Lucifer drank the rest of his own glass and sighed as he set it down. "Giving your reaction, I'm going to assume you weren't aware that you have a surprising resistance to angelic power?"

"I wasn't aware that there _were_ angels," Mercy replied. "I-I mean, not for certain. Not..."

"So, now you can understand why I was... intrigued by you," Lucifer said.

"Huuuhh..." Mercy groaned and drained the rest of her whiskey.

Lucifer put his elbows on the bar and put one hand over his mouth while leaning on it. He glared down in thought for a moment before looking over at Mercy.

"So, as far as you know, you're a perfectly normal human being?" he asked.

"Yes!" Mercy insisted. "I mean, I was born in a bathtub full of holy water, but other than that..."

Lucifer blinked in disbelief at her.

"It... was a joke," Mercy muttered. "I tend to do that when I'm nervous."

"Dually noted." Lucifer offered her the bottle of whisky, but Mercy waved him off. He shrugged. "More for me. Takes loads to get anywhere; stupid superhuman metabolism."

Mercy inhaled deeply. She was starting to feel a slight buzz from the whiskey. It made all the information she just gained able to process a bit smoother. Of course, it wasn't butter-smooth. It was more river-rapids-approaching-a-waterfall-smooth, but that was still better than it was.

"All right," she said with a long breath. "So... you're _literally_ the Devil... you've an angel brother that can stop time—"

"Slow time," Lucifer corrected.

Mercy set him with a bitter look and he lifted his hands in surrender.

"Which _means..._" Mercy went on. "There's a God."

"Good ol' Dad, yes," Lucifer said.

"There's a Heaven," Mercy said.

"Overrated, if you ask me," Lucifer replied.

"There's a Hell," Mercy breathed.

"Got a little bored down there, but yeah," Lucifer said.

Mercy ran her fingers through her hair. "Okay. Okay! No, this is fine, it's not too much, I'm not... overloading on this..." She looked down at the contract papers before her. "I was about to sign a deal with the Devil."

"Oh, so that's off?" Lucifer asked.

"Yes! No? No." Mercy put her hands on the papers. "No! I mean, I have to talk to the others—oh they're gonna know something's up. Hutch reads me like yesterday's funnies. What do I tell them?" She put her head on her hands.

"Okay, so you clearly need time to process this," Lucifer said. "How about you let me talk to the others?"

"That two year thing—that was... was what? You said you needed to figure something out." Mercy lifted her head to glower at Lucifer. "Me? Figure me out?"

"More or less," Lucifer replied. "But I do find your singing beautiful."

"And my song... you..." Mercy pushed away from the bar and eyed him. "I was right."

"What?" Lucifer frowned.

"You're just a jailor, a warden, a... punisher," Mercy said. "You're not this embodiment of evil that everyone believes. Right? You _aren't_, right?"

Lucifer chuckled softly as Mercy's suddenly worried expression. "I prefer not to think so." He considered her for a moment. "Though... you're the first person who really knows and understands the truth and isn't..."

Mercy waited for him to elaborate, but he couldn't seem to find the word.

"Afraid? Pissing themselves? Weird Satanists that just wanna jump your bones?" Mercy offered.

"That last one hasn't happened yet and I'm not sure if I want it to, despite how much my bones do love getting jumped," Lucifer replied.

Mercy drummed her hands on the bar for a moment, pursing her lips. "This is... a very intricate day."

"One way of putting it I suppose," Lucifer said as he got to his got to his feet. He paced for a moment before looking at Mercy again. "It would probably be for the best if Amenadiel didn't know of your... uniqueness."

"Why?" Mercy asked cautiously.

"Well, until we can figure out exactly what it is, he might see your resistance to angelic power as a... threat." Lucifer pressed his lips into a grimace.

"He... would he kill me?" Mercy breathed.

"No. Well, I don't think so," Lucifer said, furrowing his brow. "But he would definitely want to isolate you from humanity until he could determine what you are."

"What I am?" Mercy echoed. "I-I'm just me!"

"Yes, but _just you_ doesn't seem to be..." Lucifer trailed off a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "human."

"You're joking," Mercy said.

"If only," Lucifer said. "Sorry, love, but humans can't... resist angelic power like you can—especially not Amenadiel's. I've encountered people before that make it complicated to drag their desires from them, but I've cracked them all. You don't show even a flicker of breaking down."

"I mean..." Mercy sighed and shrugged. "I find a weird draw to your eyes, when you asked me those things."

"But that's it?" Lucifer prompted.

Mercy grimaced and nodded.

"Exactly," Lucifer said, pointing at her. "I'm not as trigger-happy as my brother, though. I'd prefer to figure out all the details before taking any sort of action."

"What d'you mean by that?" Mercy asked. "Would you kill me?"

"No," Lucifer said. "Of course not. I don't _kill_ people. Listen, I misspoke. What I mean is, I'm going to help you figure out why you have these... abilities. That way, if Amenadiel ever finds out that you're unique, we'll have information to give him."

"What if he finds out before then?" Mercy demanded.

Lucifer looked back at her and his expression softened when he saw her shoulders trembling slightly. He went over to her to gently put his hands on her shoulders, but when she winced he hesitated, looking conflicted.

"I won't let him hurt you," Lucifer assured. "Or take you away. I promise."

He lifted a hand again, this time with a questioning look. When Mercy didn't flinch or shoo him off, he gave her shoulder a squeeze. Mercy felt oddly comforted by the small gesture.

"Tell you what," Lucifer said, abruptly releasing her and sitting down beside her again. "I'll remove the time stipulation from the contract." He pulled the papers over to him and pulled a pen free of his inner jacket pocket. "You can perform here as long as you like, no locked-in time. I'll pay all of you handsomely. But..."

"But?" Mercy repeated warily.

Lucifer tapped his pen on the bar for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. Finally he swiveled to face her, his expression serious.

"I'd like you to stay here. At Lux, I mean," he said.

"What?" Mercy spluttered.

"Look, I know what it sounds like—" Lucifer began.

"It sounds like your creep factor is rising again," Mercy said.

"No! Listen to me," Lucifer pressed. "This building is huge, you'll have your own apartment; Maze does! Your own floor, if you want. But I'd be better able to protect you if you were here."

"Okay, but there's some holes in your logic there," Mercy said.

Lucifer raised a brow.

"Your brother, Amen..."

"Amenadiel."

"That, yes. He came here to tell you to go back to Hell," Mercy said. "Won't he be _back?_ If I want to be safe from him, it sounds like I technically need to be as far from you as possible. How would he find me—one person among six billion—if I'm just out in the world nowhere near his brother?"

"You're a sharp one," Lucifer murmured. "Yes, all right, that is true, but..."

"But?" Mercy lifted her hands incredulously.

"But I need to figure out what you are," Lucifer said, meeting her gaze with sharp eyes. "You're something new. Something no one has seen, not even me."

Mercy eyed him. "This... this is exciting for you?"

"Of course it is!" Lucifer exclaimed. "I've been around since before the world began. I left Hell because I was sick of doing the same thing, I was sick of being my father's monster. I came to Earth to live among humans to _experience_ life. And you're a sparkling star among gems."

"So, I'm just... what, a project? A toy?" Mercy snapped.

"Oh bloody hell, don't think of it like that," Lucifer groaned. "Look, aren't you the least bit curious about yourself now? I'm telling you, you'll figure it out a lot faster with my help. And at least I'm willing to let you keep your life and freedom while doing it."

"But you want me to stay here," Mercy pointed out.

"Yes, but not under lock and key!" Lucifer said, exasperated. "You can come and go as you please! Though, I would prefer it if you let me know if you're doing the going bit so I can come—"

Mercy got up off her stool and began to walk toward the elevator.

"Wh—Mer-Mercy, wait!" Lucifer stammered as he scrambled after her.

He got between her and the elevator rather swiftly and held up his hands.

"This doesn't feel like freedom, creeper," Mercy said.

"I know, but _think_ about it," Lucifer pleaded. "I'm sorry about what I said, I just want to make sure you're safe."

"Safe so you can poke and prod me!" Mercy shouted.

"Again, I won't be doing that unless you want me to." Lucifer winked.

When Mercy's expression grew even more irate, he sighed in defeat.

"You're not a guinea pig—this isn't science," Lucifer said. "Honestly, I don't even know where to begin figuring you out. But together, we could!"

"What is with all the shouting?"

From the stairs came Maze and just behind her was Blake. Mercy blinked in surprise to see her drummer friend while Lucifer instantly put on a smile for them.

"Maze! And one of the band, Blake, correct?" he said.

"Yeah." Blake was looking between Mercy and Lucifer with a suspicious expression. "Mercy, you all right? I didn't know you got here."

"I-I..." Mercy stammered before clearing her throat. "I'm fine. I uh... I just got here a few minutes ago."

"Why were you yelling?" Maze asked. "Something about guinea pigs?"

Lucifer pursed his lips. He did say he didn't lie. Mercy turned toward him, suddenly curious about what he would say. He saw her look and his brow twitched; he knew she was testing him.

"Um, just some... disagreements about the contract," Lucifer finally said.

"Jeez, what did you put in there?" Blake asked. "It takes quite a bit to make Mercy shout."

"I didn't like the time restraint," Mercy said, deciding to take pity on Lucifer and fib for him.

"And I agreed to remove it," Lucifer said. "Complete with pay, benefits, and the apartment."

Mercy nearly shot him a glare. Sure, he was open about being the Devil, but if Mercy told her bandmates she believed it and about her encounter with Amenadiel's powers, she had no idea how they'd react. Probably start with recommending she get counseling and medication.

Lucifer knew she didn't want to tell them about it, so now he was trying to talk her into a corner. He didn't lie, but he was good at twisting the truth. However, despite how angry Mercy was at him, she knew he had a point. An entirely new world had suddenly opened up to her, and she was connected to it whether she liked it or not. Sure, she could ditch town in order to keep safe from it, but...

In her mind's eye, she could see the wolf sticker on her guitar case. What if getting answers about this led her to answers about what drove her to LA in the first place? About all of Conor's insane warnings and the lengths he went to in order to keep her safe? What if this could help her find him again?

Mercy met Lucifer's eyes and took a deep breath. She gave him a stern look, one that said, _I'm trusting you, but screw this up and I'm cutting off an ear._

"Yeah, all right, fine," Mercy said grumpily.

"Apartment?" Blake echoed with a raised brow.

"Yeah, I've been looking for a new place," Mercy explained quickly. "Uh, new neighbors. Total pricks. But as a neat little bonus, Lucifer says I can have one of Lux's apartments."

"Oh, so like where Maze is?" Blake raised her brows. "Dude, bitchin'."

"Can you call Hutch and Miles?" Mercy asked. "My, uh... my cell died while I was talking to Hutch."

"Maybe you should finally ditch that dinosaur and get a real phone," Blake teased as she pulled out her cell.

Mercy preferred her "dinosaur" because it wasn't even capable of GPS. Conor got it for her, promising that the only way to track location was to see the nearest cell phone tower, but even then it wasn't a lot to go on.

"Yeah, yeah, tell 'em to come up here so we can finalize this paperwork," Mercy said as she walked back toward the bar.

Maze was eyeing Lucifer quizzically as Blake wandered across the room with her phone to her ear.

"Long story," Lucifer explained. "I can explain when your girlfriend goes home."

Maze rolled her eyes. "Please, she's just good at what she does." She eyed Mercy for a moment longer before walking after Blake.

"Okay, so Amenadiel's your brother," Mercy whispered to Lucifer as they sat back down. "So what's Maze?"

"A demon," Lucifer replied casually.

Mercy almost choked on her own spit. "Oh. Oh, is that all?"

Oddly enough, demons had a rougher reputation than Lucifer. Of course, there was folklore on demons that were more trickster than evil monster from Hell. Japan had the Yokai, which varied from sucking people down toilets to eat their flesh to silly little sprites that liked to eat filth.

"I trust her with my life," Lucifer assured.

"Yeah, cool, but what about mine?" Mercy whispered.

"They're on their way," Blake said, walking back toward the bar.

"Great, grand, yeah," Mercy said absently.

Blake came to her side and flicked her ear. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Mercy replied too fast. She cleared her throat and faced Blake. "Sorry. Er, the... date, I suppose."

Blake's expression became understanding. "Oh, right, I almost forgot. It's all right, though, doll. You know you've got us." She smiled and hugged her briefly. "And our ever-growing fellowship." She gestured grandly toward Maze and Lucifer. "Together, we'll reach Mordor."

"Don't get all geeky on me," Maze said, folding her arms.

"Aw, I thought you liked it," Blake teased. "I'll let you have my bow if I get your axe."

"Wow," Mercy said, shaking her head and looking back at the papers.

Her entire life had just turned inside out in less than an hour. Now, all she could wonder was if she could survive what it had become.

* * *

_**A/N::: So full disclosure—this is kind of an experiment. I've been toying around with a lot of different fics as of late, and due to one of my original stories involving Hell, Heaven, Mythology, and basically all supernatural nonsense, I'm trying to decide how to make all of it mesh together. Therefore! This fic is probably going to float away from canon more than any of my others. There's going to be more original content scenes, and these two might not see every episode (or rather every case).**_

_**Just to clarify some things straight off the bat (since the description space is limited) I want to state that while Chloe Decker is in this story, she is NOT blessed. Don't get me wrong, I love her character, but this is meant to be a Luci/OC story, and her being immune to Lucifer and everything would complicate things (and I detest love triangles to no end). So think of this as an AU where Chloe is just a normal human... and Norse Mythology is a thing.**_

_**I'm nervous and excited about this one, so let me know what you guys think in the reviews, and of course if you like it, hit that follow button for future updates!**_


	2. Chapter 2

"What about the horns?"

"No horns. Or tail, I might add."

"Can you turn into a snake?"

"No, that's ridiculous."

"What about a goat?"

"Ugh! No! I hate the goat, there was never a goat..."

"Okay, how about wings?"

It had been five days since Mercy officially moved in at Lux and Save My Hero became it's band. It was close to when the club officially opened and the main bar area was still empty save Lucifer, Maze, and Mercy. Lucifer had explained the situation to Maze that lead to Mercy becoming a tenant instead of just a regular performer. She'd been just as confused and intrigued as Lucifer, but Mercy often got the sense that the demon didn't really like her being there.

"I cut them off," Maze said. She was behind the bar, leaning on it with her forearms and eyeing Mercy where she sat on the edge of the small stage.

"Maze cut them off," Lucifer confirmed from where he was plucking random little songs on the piano.

"That sounds... painful," Mercy said. "Why?"

"Prove a point," Lucifer said. "I can't go back to Hell without them. So, I had them removed."

"Could you... fly with them?" Mercy asked.

"Of course," Lucifer replied.

"Okay, so Amenadiel has wings," Mercy said.

"He does."

"And he can fly."

"He can."

"So, what's stopping him from flying you back to Hell?" Mercy frowned over at her angelic land lord.

Lucifer laughed. "Oh, he can try."

Maze was smirking in wicked amusement as well. Mercy took that as confidence rather than arrogance. It was a bit reassuring, considering Amenadiel was the one that might supposedly kill her.

"I'm guessing these wings act more like a teleporting device," Mercy mused.

"What makes you say that?" Maze asked.

"Well, I mean, I heard Amenadiel fly out here and there's no gaping hole in the ceiling," Mercy said, gesturing around. "Sooo that means it just transported him out of here. And it's not like anyone can physically just waltz over to Hell or Heaven."

"Astute observations." Lucifer played a soft little tune.

"So... Amenadiel is the only one that's here? On Earth, I mean?" Mercy asked. "Everyone else is just up in Heaven sipping tea?"

"For now, it seems that way," Lucifer said. "I've been out of Hell for five years and he's the only one that's come calling. Perhaps because of his ability; that might be why Father sent him over anyone else. Keeps the public in the dark about our presence. Divine beings aren't meant to be among you lot."

"Ah, okay, and the whole time thing helps him keep your pissing matches relatively out of human eyes," Mercy concluded.

"Relatively," Lucifer agreed, shooting her a small smirk.

All in all, Mercy's time at Lux hadn't been bad. Her apartment was larger and fancier than her old one, complete with a massive bedroom, a sink-in tub and walk-in shower, a large living area and quant little kitchen. Lucifer had it furnished for her, so all she had to bring really was her clothes and other personal effects. She was allowed to come and go as she pleased, but every so often Maze would text asking where she was; evidently Lucifer didn't have a phone of his own, which was kind of baffling.

Mercy didn't spend a lot of time in the club area when it was open to the public, but when she was there, she observed Lucifer at work. He was excellent at entertaining his guests, whether that be mingling among them, dancing, buying drinks, or playing the piano and singing. He had a decent voice, and loving music as much as she did, Mercy was always rather eager to hear him play.

Lucifer often ended his nights with heading up to his penthouse, usually with at least one person in tow. It was clear what his intentions with them were, be them man or woman, and more often than not he had multiple partners. Mercy hadn't been up to his penthouse, but she could only imagine how blinding it would be with a UV light.

While making the occasional suggestive comment to her here and there, Lucifer didn't make any major passes at Mercy. She had a feeling that he knew she barely consented to living in the building and if he started trying to sleep with her every chance he had, she'd disappear faster than he could blink.

At least, that was Mercy's plan if things didn't pan out here. If something happened with Lucifer or she got the feeling her life was in more danger sticking with him, she felt she had no other choice but to leave. It was frustrating and she didn't want to ditch everything and start all over again, but... Conor didn't sacrifice so much so she could get killed by...

_Angels._

Mercy still wasn't entirely used to using the word and knowing the truth; she wasn't sure if she ever would. The past five days had been her trying to learn as much as she could of this new world while still trying to seem normal to her bandmates.

"So, if Amenadiel _does_ show up..." Mercy said, looking over at Lucifer warily. "What exactly do I do? Stay really, really still?"

"By the time you even know he's there, it would probably be too late," Lucifer said. "Sometimes, even I don't notice his arrival before I see things slowing."

"Okay, so what do I do?" Mercy pressed.

"I have a plan, but I'm not entirely certain it'll work," Lucifer admitted.

"That's reassuring," Mercy breathed.

"You should be grateful that Lucifer's concerned about your wellbeing at all," Maze snapped at her.

"No biting, Maze," Lucifer scolded. "I'm going to suggest that my own power might be behind why you're unaffected by him."

"I thought you didn't lie," Mercy said.

"I don't, that's why I said _suggest._" Lucifer looked up from the piano keys.

"That seems like the same thing," Mercy pointed out.

"You're going to question how he keeps you safe?" Maze said tightly.

"Well, you know, it is only my life we're talking about here," Mercy replied sarcastically. "It's not like I want to be certain I'll be fine."

"He might not fall for it, it's true," Lucifer said. "But like I told you, I'm not letting him get near you. So basically, if you see things slowing down, go to either me or Maze as quickly as possible. Whoever's closer."

Mercy cast a wary glance toward Maze who curled her upper lip and folded her arms across her chest.

"Yes, Maze will protect you too," Lucifer said. "She does anything I instruct."

"Still don't know why we're wasting time with this," Maze said. "I say let Amenadiel have her. At least he'll be distracted from bothering us for a while."

"Maze." Lucifer stopped playing and shot a stern glare over at her. "This is my decision and it's final."

Maze scoffed softly but didn't say anything more. Mercy sighed and folded her hands while propping her forearms on her knees. "I don't mean to come across ungrateful."

"You're not, ignore her," Lucifer assured as he got to his feet. "She's just bitter that her elaborate scheme to annoy me with hiring your band in the first place has turned out to be so entertaining for me."

He smirked toward Maze and she rolled her eyes.

"So, what's our plan?" Mercy asked. "I mean, we haven't really established how we're going to figure me out."

"Don't worry about that," Lucifer insisted. "I have a few people who owe some favors doing research. Meanwhile, there are some tests of my own I want to run."

"Tests?" Mercy echoed. "I thought you said I _wasn't_ a guinea pig."

"You're not, but we need to know the extent of your... abilities," Lucifer explained.

"Doesn't sound horrifying at all," Mercy said sarcastically.

"I think it'll be fun," Lucifer insisted as he sat down on the stage beside her. "Now, I want you to look at me."

"Why?" Mercy asked warily.

"Just do it, come on," Lucifer said.

Mercy exhaled sharply and turned to face him. He smiled at her.

"That's it," he said. "I want to try this again. Tell me your desire, Mercy. What is it you wish to claim above everything else? It is fame? Wealth? Anything in the universe, name it. What is it you want?"

Just like the first time they met, Mercy was aware of a slight tug to Lucifer's eyes, but even when she looked into them, she had no yearn to tell him what he asked for. She shook her head and shrugged at him. Lucifer let out a huff and frowned. It seemed like he put some real effort into that.

"Still nothing," he muttered, irritated. "What about..."

He scooted a bit closer to her and Mercy blinked in surprise. He leaned toward her and reached up to gently tuck a lock of ginger hair behind her ear. Mercy sat frozen in place, wondering what the hell he was doing.

"Surely you feel some tug toward me?" Lucifer murmured, his breath on her neck. "That primal, feral need..."

"Uh... Lucifer?" Mercy rasped.

"Yes?" Lucifer purred. "What is it you'd like to do?" He gently gripped her upper arm and leaned in, putting his mouth close to her neck.

"Punch you in the throat if you don't stop touching me," Mercy said, turning to glare at him.

Lucifer huffed in irritation and disappointment before scooting away. "Interesting as all this is, a shame that we can't have even more fun on top of it."

"Yeah, well, the stipulation of me staying here was that you would be civil," Mercy reminded him.

"I know!" Lucifer replied. "That was purely experimental. We need to understand how you tick."

Mercy narrowed her eyes at him.

Lucifer sighed. "And you're a particularly attractive specimen, what can I say?"

"He's not used to not getting what he wants," Maze said.

"You literally have your pick of the litter," Mercy said. "What does it matter if I'm immune to your... charms?"

"Forbidden fruit is the sweetest," Lucifer said. "I should know."

"Oh so _that _part happened." Mercy leaned back and propped herself up on her elbows.

"Of course that part happened," Lucifer said. "Dad leaving me alone with his shiny new toys... I couldn't help but test the waters."

"All right, so we know that I'm not affected by your... abilities," Mercy said. "What next?"

"Well, we have to wait for my people to get back to me," Lucifer said, pursing his lips momentarily. "Hopefully I'll hear something in a few days. In the meantime, you get to sit back and enjoy the comforts of Lux." He cast a smirk back at her.

"You do realize that Hutch had to _convince _me to do that first show," Mercy said.

"Why?" Lucifer frowned at her. "My club has high renown—plenty of customers who would eagerly go and buy your album after hearing you play. It was a profitable deal."

"Yes, but I detest this sort of environment," Mercy muttered, glaring around the room.

"I like to think it's rather classy," Lucifer protested.

"Compared to others, sure," Mercy said. "But it's still a cesspool of drunken, high, sexual encounters. It's all meaningless. I don't think your guests even hear half my lyrics."

"Well, I hear them." Lucifer turned to look back at her, his expression serious. "You put a lot of thought and care into your songs, don't you?"

Mercy adverted her gaze. "Enough with the flattery, Luci."

Lucifer's brows shot up. "Was that a nickname? Did you just give me a nickname? I think that's a sign of endearment!"

"Oh for the love of..." Mercy pushed herself to her feet. "I'm heading back to my hiding hole before the people start coming in."

"Why don't you stay?" Lucifer asked, reaching up and gripping her wrist gently.

"Stay?" Mercy echoed, perking a brow.

Lucifer nodded. "Let me show you that these people aren't as unfeeling as you believe."

Maze scoffed softly and walked out from behind the bar and disappeared down the stairs. Mercy knew she was off to let the guests inside.

"How exactly do you propose to do that?" Mercy asked with a shake of her head.

Lucifer grinned. "Can you play piano?"

Mercy glanced toward the grand piano she had been itching to play since she first saw it. "Yeah."

"Then come play with me," Lucifer said, getting to his feet and tugging her arm. "Whatever song you like."

"You won't know my songs," Mercy told him. "And I doubt I know anything you do."

Lucifer's wicked grin turned into a surprisingly soft smile. "I can improvise."

"You want to start the night with music?" Mercy asked as she allowed him to tow her toward the piano.

"Well, it's before they get piss drunk," Lucifer explained. "Can't very well serenade someone who's passed out."

Mercy sat down before the piano and looked over the immaculate keys and let out a long breath. She had a keyboard in her apartment, but nothing beat the beautiful and genuine song of a real piano. As Lucifer sat down beside her, Mercy let her fingers play out a a few experimental notes. The instrument was in perfect tune and its music bounced around the room. She smiled and looked over the keys with new adoration.

After exhaling, Mercy began to plunk her fingers along the keys in a slow, somber tune. Lucifer merely watched at first in curiosity. Mercy let the notes gently float across the room, feeling them reverberate through her hands.

"A bit sad, don't you think?" Lucifer asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Luci, I thought that I could play any song I like?" Mercy replied.

"Well, if you want to start the night with that..."

Mercy rolled her eyes and fluidly changed the song into something more upbeat. As she did so, the first of the night's guests came wandering in and smiled at the sight of Lucifer at the piano. He smiled toward them.

"We're starting the night with music, ladies and gentlemen," Lucifer declared. "Gather round, now! Our own Little Angel is going to sing us a song."

"Don't call me that," Mercy muttered before letting herself fall into the music.

After a few more seconds of her upbeat, happy little notes, she took a deep breath and began.

"_Eyes shut, mind open,_

_ I was just a young thing,_

_ Hopin'_

_ And I look out at all_

_ The saddened faces_

_ All those broken hearts_

_ And all those shattered places_

_ Sayin' how can I feel?_

_ How can I cry?_

_ How can I not try_

_ When all those out there_

_ Have had it so much worse_

_ Than what's in here?_

_ How can I hurt?_

_ How can I break?_

_ Sayin' how can I explain_

_ When I don't know what_

_ It is to feel pain?_

_ Eyes open, mind shut,_

_ I was just a blind thing,_

_ Laughin'_

_ And I look out at all_

_ The bewildered faces_

_ All those confused hearts_

_ And all those filthy places_

_ Sayin' how can I feel?_

_ How can I cry?_

_ How can I not try_

_ When all those out there_

_ Have it so much worse_

_ Than what's in here?_

_ How can I hurt?_

_ How can I break?_

_ Sayin' how can I explain_

_ When I don't understand_

_ How to deal with all this pain?_

_ I don't know_

_ What it is to be calm_

_ I don't know_

_ What it is to be strong_

_ I don't know_

_ What it is to hold on_

_ I don't know_

_ If lasting this long_

_ Means that I've won_

_ Sayin' how can I feel?_

_ How can I cry?_

_ How can I not try_

_ When all those out there_

_ Have it so much worse_

_ Than what's in here?_

_ How can I hurt?_

_ How can I break?_

_ Sayin' how can I explain_

_ How I've survived_

_ Through all this pain?"_

By the time Mercy played the last few cheerful notes, the crowd applauded and smiled. Mercy loosed a long exhale through her nose, already knowing that most of these people didn't hear the lyrics. It was a happy fun tune with upbeat piano notes plinking in their ears. Who cares what the words are?

Lucifer, however, blinked thoughtfully at the piano keys briefly before smiling and standing up to address his audience.

"Lovely, isn't it?" he said. "Now that we've opened the night so gently, I think it's time we spice things up."

Lucifer sat back down and let his hands flow across the piano keys in a swift and elegant fashion. It was more complicated than Mercy's bubbly song and much more blues-esc. Mercy gaped as his fingers flawlessly found the notes and moved them into the intense tune.

There didn't seem to be lyrics to the song, but the crowd around them began to cheer and dance to it. Mercy watched as the music filled the room and the people. Eventually, a smile broke across her face. Most of them might not have listened to the depth of her lyrics, but that didn't make them lesser beings. Here was proof that music effected all of them; it was magic that infested the soul and brought out truth.

Lucifer nodded to the piano, moving his hands lower on the keys to make room for a second set of hands. Mercy gave him an inquisitive glance, to which he just looked at the keys again intently. She gave out a small breath, then began to play an upbeat melody. Lucifer fluidly kept playing, his tune melding with hers seamlessly.

Mercy's grin widened as they kept playing the song together. The music moved through her fingers and up her bones. It reverberated in her ribs. It flooded her skull and consumed her veins.

They played for what seemed like ages, but couldn't have been more than five minutes. When Mercy drew the song to a close, Lucifer flawlessly followed and the room erupted with cheers. Mercy gave a slightly sheepish chuckle as she got off the piano bench with Lucifer.

"Let's get the drinks flowing, shall we?" Lucifer said. "First round is on me!"

More cheers and several of the guests began to walk toward the bar. Maze was shaking a drink behind it for someone already and narrowed her eyes toward Mercy.

"She really doesn't like me," Mercy murmured.

Lucifer frowned over at her. "Who, Maze? Don't mind her, she'll come round."

"If you say so," Mercy sighed. "Thanks for playing with me, by the way." She gestured weakly to the piano.

Lucifer beamed. "It was a pleasure, I assure you." His expression became pensive. "Can I ask you something?"

Mercy narrowed her eyes. "Yes, but I might not answer."

Lucifer exhaled sharply before seeming to muster himself. "When... when you agreed to play here, to live here... you told Blake something about being close to a date?"

Mercy's breath caught and she adverted her gaze. "Er... yeah. Anniversary."

"Not a good one, I take it?" Lucifer said softly, so softly that Mercy barely heard him over the rising music playing over the speakers.

"No," Mercy replied. "Uh, I gotta go to the loo? That's what they call it on your planet, right?"

Lucifer's mouth twinged slightly in amusement, but he seemed surprisingly concerned as she quickly darted through the crowd toward the bathrooms.

Mercy stumbled into the restroom as if she'd had five drinks already. It seemed relatively empty, and her behavior wasn't really noticed by any of the other girls. And guy; she spotted him sliding into a stall with a pretty young woman. Seemed Lux's guests liked to start the party early. Trying to catch her breath, Mercy gripped the sink and looked up at her reflection.

Milky complexion, face dashed with freckles, wavy ginger hair, and pale green eyes. Conor told her that she had her mother's hair and freckles, but their father's eyes. Almost like jade stone, he'd say. If only she and Conor shared a mother as well as their father. Maybe she wouldn't...

Mercy let out a long breath and closed her eyes.

_ This is where I splash my face with cold water, right? Where I give myself a little pep talk and march back out there._

But Mercy wasn't sure she could move again, let alone go back out there. It was tomorrow. Tomorrow would mark four years since she had to change everything, where she had to ditch her last name, her identity, her entire life. Her friends only knew a small piece of it: that it was the day her mother died.

* * *

When Mercy finally mustered up herself enough to go back out of the bathroom, the club was in full party mode. The lights were dimmed and pulsating with the beat of the dance music pumping through the speakers. Maze was swiftly and elegantly mixing drink after drink, passing them out with ease across the bar. Several of Lux's guests were either dancing, kissing, or sitting at the tables chatting over the noise.

Lucifer was nowhere to be seen.

Mercy sighed and looked toward the elevator. She wanted to sneak off to her apartment, two floors below. Lucifer was probably off seducing a woman. Or a man. Or one of each. She began to weave through the crowd, eyes fixed on the elevator. She was mere feet from it when a hand caught her by the arm.

"Where you off to, Little Angel?" Maze asked in a sneer.

She had come out from the nearby bar to intercept her. Mercy laughed nervously and nearly gasped in relief when Maze let go of her.

_Surely she wouldn't just kill me in front of everyone, right?_ Mercy thought.

"Not in the fun mood?" Maze teased. "C'mon. I'll mix you a drink, on the house. My favorite concoction."

"I'm actually fairly partial to living," Mercy replied warily.

Maze scoffed and smirked. "Please. There are so many more creative ways to kill you. Poison is small potatoes."

"I'm not worried about poison," Mercy said. "I'm worried about death by hangover."

Maze laughed. "And rightly so, but I've got a cure for that too."

"I'm really just not feeling well," Mercy fibbed, gesturing weakly toward the elevator.

"Please." Maze gripped her wrist and guided her back to the bar. "If you're going to live here, at least act like it."

Maze's grip was like an iron shackle. Mercy didn't even bother trying to break free of it, fearing it might snap her wrist. To her surprise, Maze pulled her behind the bar rather than having her sit in one of the stools. There were still a few customers lingering near the bar and sipping their drinks. They looked at Mercy in confusion when Maze tugged her along.

"New bartender?" one of the men asked, a middle-aged guy whose suit looked like it could pay for a Toyota Prius.

"Not exactly," Maze said. "New soul to corrupt."

"Why do you gotta say it like that?" Mercy groaned.

Maze grinned at her as she finally released her. "Because of your reaction."

Mercy's eyes darted side to side, searching for an escape, but even if the club was empty, she had a feeling Maze would catch her. With all these people, it would be impossible to get through.

The demon began to pour various alcoholic drinks into a shaker. She moved so fast, Mercy didn't even register what she was putting in it.

"Are you taking this one too, Maze?" the man asked. "You already got that cute chick with the pink hair last week. Leave some of these dolls for us."

"For one: Blake wouldn't go for you even if you were the last man on Earth," Maze said. "She's on a strict clam diet."

"Oh... why?" Mercy's face scrunched up. "Why do you talk like this?"

Maze merely smiled broadly at Mercy as she began to shake the drink.

"I'm just saying, I'm partial to redheads," the man said, leaning forward on the bar. "And this one sings like an angel. I bet I can make her sing."

Mercy looked over at him, affronted, but before she could find the closest bottle to throw at his head, a hand fell on Mercy's shoulder.

"Sorry, Mr. Shaw, this one is spoken for," Lucifer said, grinning at the man as he pulled Mercy close to his chest.

"Well, surely you can share?" Shaw asked, raising a brow at him. "You can have first go, of course, but..."

Lucifer released Mercy and put one hand on the counter to lean forward. There was still a smile on his face, but there was something predatory in his near-black eyes.

"Would a lion really share with a rat?" he asked softly.

Shaw blinked, clearly insulted. "E-excuse me? Do you realize how much money I've put in here?"

"Not _nearly_ enough to act like the snuffling little vermin you are," Lucifer said, his voice sickly sweet. "This young lady isn't a toy to be tossed around the playroom."

"Okay! Okay..." Mercy stepped forward and patted Lucifer's chest while giving a small chuckle. "Let's not get carried away here, Luci."

Lucifer frowned at her. "I don't think you understand what Mr. Shaw—" he began.

"Oh, oh no, I understand."

Mercy fixated her gaze on the man. She looked over his thinning, clearly-dyed brown hair, his rather fit body but the slight pudge at his hips. Clearly a man who cared about image. That would be the ideal place to attack, but...

"He said he liked my singing," Mercy said, smiling at Shaw suggestively.

Lucifer gaped at her. "A... Mercy, you can't be serious," he said.

Shaw was beginning to puff up, his expression growing smug. "A lady knows what she wants," he said.

"Maze," Mercy said, looking over her shoulder at the bartender. "Can you cut the music?"

Maze had paused shaking Mercy's drink and looked just as baffled as Lucifer. "Uh... yeah, but..."

"I want to sing this... specimen a song," Mercy said, grinning back at Shaw.

As Shaw began to look more and more pleased with himself, Lucifer's eyes darted between him and Mercy. She could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to figure out what was happening.

Maze messed with a panel near the edge of the bar and the music cut out. The guests all looked up, confused and startled.

"I'll be needing the piano again!" Mercy said, quickly prancing around the bar. She went over to Shaw and grabbed his hand.

"Lucifer..." Maze said slowly.

"We'll let it play out," Lucifer murmured, still lost.

The other guests now noticed as Mercy led Shaw to the piano. He was smiling giddily and nearly spilled his drinks a few times. His hand was sweaty and Mercy wiped hers on her hand when she finally reached the piano.

"Hello, everyone," she said, looking around at the guests. "Me again. Uh, Mercy... Townsend... Anyway, this man just said that he finds my voice lovely. Apparently, he's a fan of redheads too." Mercy sat down at the piano. "I have a very, very special song for you Mr..."

"Shaw," Lucifer whisper-yelled as he approached to watch, Maze just behind him.

"Shaw," Mercy said. "To you, and anyone else who has the audacity to try and get me in bed without even knowing the first thing about me."

Shaw's face fell just as Mercy began to play the piano in an upbeat happy tune. It wasn't one of her songs, as much as she wished that she'd come up with it.

"_Look inside, look inside your tiny mind, then look a bit harder,_" Mercy sang. "_'Cause we're so uninspired, we're so sick and tired of all the hatred you harbor..._"

Lucifer's expression went from awestruck to positively thrilled. His smile looked like it was going to crack his handsome face. Mercy heard laughs and some cheers from the crowd. Shaw's face was turning redder and redder by the minute.

"_You're point of view is medieval... Fuck you! Fuck you very, very much... 'Cause we hate what you do and we hate your whole crew, so please don't stay in touch. Fuck you! Fuck you very, very much. 'Cause your words don't translate, and it's getting quite late, so please don't stay in touch._"

Shaw was frozen to the spot, his mouth pressed into a tight line. Mercy beamed at him as she kept playing away at the piano and singing.

"_Do you get, do you get a little kick of being small-minded?_" Mercy sang. "_It's approval you're after, you want to be like your father—"_

It was at that point that Shaw angrily set his drink on the closest table, adjusted his suit jacket, and began to stalk out of the room. Mercy couldn't help but laugh a little while still trying to sing.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Shaw!" she called after him. "It's your song! Come on! _Fuck you! Fuck you very, very much! 'Cause we hate what you do and we hate your whole crew, so please don't stay in touch!_"

She gestured around the room with one hand briefly, and the guests started singing along the catchy chorus. In the end, Mr. Shaw had all eyes on him as he impatiently waited for the elevator with everyone singing together.

"_Fuck you! Fuck you very, very much! 'Cause it's getting quite late and your words don't translate, so please don't stay in touch!_"

When Shaw finally got into his elevator and the doors closed, Mercy rolled the song to a close and the crowd all whooped and laughed. Maze looked baffled into a state of shock while Lucifer was all smiles as he trotted over to Mercy's side.

"That was _inspired,_" he told her.

"Yes, well..." Mercy looked around the room as the weight of what she just did hit her. "Oh. Oh, no."

"Oh no? Oh!" Lucifer noticed her face and gestured for her to get up. "Well, yes, ladies and gentlemen, that was an impromptu performance from Lux's own Mercy. Lovely, isn't she?" He looked over at Maze as Mercy got to her feet. "Maze, the music, would you?"

Maze looked at the drink she'd mixed for Mercy in her hands and scoffed before draining it herself and heading back toward the bar. Lucifer carefully guided Mercy toward the edge of the club.

"Why did I do that?" Mercy rasped. "He looked like he could pay for someone to kill me!"

"That won't happen," Lucifer assured.

"I just got so mad, and the idea of tricking him into going in the spotlight just to be ridiculed was... oh it was delicious," Mercy groaned.

"Interesting word choice," Lucifer noted.

"I watched The Witch last night, and the whole thing with Black Phillip—" Mercy began to explain weakly.

"Ugh, again with the bloody goat," Lucifer muttered.

When they reached the edge of the room, there was a young blonde woman sitting at a table. Lucifer went and sat down next to her, straightening his jacket as he did so.

"Sorry, Delilah, got a touch distracted," he said, gesturing for Mercy to sit on the woman's other side. "This is Mercy Townsend."

"Yeah, so I heard," Delilah said with a small giggle. "That was pretty good."

"That was... impulsive," Mercy said with a shake of her head. "Uh... Delilah, was it? Oh. Oh! You're _Delilah!_"

Delilah smiled a bit sheepishly. She was a rather well-known singer and not just in LA. She'd only made it big about six months ago, but her climb in the music world of the city was swift and ferocious. Though, Delilah looked like she'd seen better days. Her eye makeup was smeared from crying, her skin pale and her eyes bloodshot. She smelled of booze and perfume.

"I love your voice," Mercy said. "Astounding vibrato, really."

"Oh, thank you," Delilah said. "I like yours as well. Um... Lucifer, I had... more a personal question about that favor you did for me."

"Oh, it's quite all right, Mercy here has seen my horns, so to speak," Lucifer said.

"I thought you said you didn't have—" Mercy began.

"Metaphor, darling, keep up," Lucifer said.

Mercy rolled her eyes as Delilah shifted in her seat slightly.

"I just... I need to know..." The blonde looked into Lucifer's eyes. "Did I sell my soul to the Devil?"

Mercy blinked in astonishment at the blunt question while Lucifer laughed softly.

"No, no, no," he cooed, pulling Delilah under his arm and against his chest. "I just called in a few favors that were owed to me to get you connected to the right people. All you owe me is a favor in return."

Mercy eyed Lucifer warily. Was this how the "Deals with the Devil" worked? Favors for favors? What could he demand? What could he grant?

"A favor?" Delilah whispered.

Lucifer nodded grimly. "Yes, and prepare yourself, because it isn't going to be easy for you."

Delilah stared up at Lucifer in a mix of apprehension and fear. Mercy's pulse thrummed through her neck, and she wondered if she should be here for this.

"I need you to pull yourself together," Lucifer said.

Mercy exhaled a breath of relief as Delilah smiled.

"I... I'll try," Delilah said. "I will."

"Lucifer, you can't do that to me," Mercy rasped, putting a hand to her chest.

"Do what?" Lucifer looked over at her innocently.

"I thought I was going to see... I dunno what I thought I was gonna see, but shit," Mercy muttered.

Delilah let out a soft sigh and leaned away from Lucifer. "I was worried I'd have to sleep with someone else."

"I didn't tell you to sleep with Jimmy Barnes" Lucifer argued.

"I know, I just thought it was part of the whole thing," Delilah said.

"Producer Jimmy Barnes?" Mercy's brows raised, then she shook her head. "Never mind I don't want to know. Luci, why am I here?"

"I'll get to that," Lucifer said before looking back to Delilah. "Ditching the guy at the alter wasn't required either."

Delilah groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Uugh, I know, I know."

"I think that having a show with Mercy's band here at Lux might get you back on your feet and in the swing of things," Lucifer said, looking between the two women.

"Uh... Some of our more... bubbly songs might work," Mercy said.

"She's right, Lucifer, our genres don't mix well," Delilah pointed out.

"Well, that's what makes it interesting," Lucifer said, smiling.

Delilah sighed and smiled over at Mercy. "I'm game if you are."

"Sure," Mercy said. "Well, I have to run it by the others first, but... should be fine." She grinned nervously.

"For a shy thing, you really gave that guy a show," Delilah said as she started to get to her feet.

"Yeah, I still don't know how that happened," Mercy admitted.

"I'll walk you out," Lucifer said, following after Delilah.

"Same," Mercy hopped to her feet so fast she nearly fell over. "Er, I mean, I'm just gonna dash down the street for that Chinese food place, so..."

"You don't want to be alone with Maze or all these people, do you?" Lucifer guessed.

"Not in the least," Mercy said, grinning.

The three of them went down to the main floor and out into the street. There wasn't a line leading inside the club anymore, so it was just the three of them for the most part.

"You've got a ride?" Lucifer asked Delilah.

"Yes, my sponsor is coming to get me," Delilah said with a small sigh.

"I think I really am gonna go get some Chinese," Mercy said, staring down the street. "D'you think Maze will like me more if I give her some Wontons as an offering?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Maybe. Though I think your show impressed her."

"Oh, let me get your number," Delilah said, pulling out her cell. "So we can collaborate on getting a show on."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Mercy pulled out her flip phone.

Delilah stared at it. "Does that antique still work?"

Lucifer laughed as Mercy rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I like taking twenty minutes to send one text," Mercy said.

After exchanging numbers, Delilah gave Mercy a quick hug before turning to Lucifer to do the same.

"Thank you," she told him.

"Of course," Lucifer replied, wrapping his arms around her.

The next few seconds seemed to burst by with nothing inside them but sheer chaos. There was the screech of tires, and then ear-shattering gunfire crackled through the air. Mercy instantly flung herself down and to the side, but something sliced through her sleeve and grazed her upper right arm. Warm blood began to seep down onto the pavement just as yet another assault on her eardrums occurred.

There was a thunderous crash and the blare of a honking horn. Mercy looked up to see a dark maroon SUV just coming to a halt after being smashed by a semi truck. There were bits of metal and plastic and glass all over the street. Then, when Mercy looked to her left, she saw Delilah laying in a bloody heap on top of Lucifer.

Neither were moving.

"Haaah..." Mercy rasped in pain and horror.

There was a sharp gasp of breath and Lucifer began to move. He carefully pushed Delilah off of him and onto the sidewalk, panting. Delilah's eyes were wide and staring as blood seeped from the bullet holes in her torso. Lucifer shook his head sorrowfully before a sudden thought seemed to seize him and he looked around wildly until he spotted Mercy.

"Are you hurt?" he asked urgently, hurrying over to her.

"J-just a graze, I think," Mercy stammered. "Oh hell, Luci, is she dead? Is Delilah dead?"

Lucifer knelt beside her and began to inspect her wounded arm. "I'm afraid so. But don't worry..."

Apparently satisfied she was all right, Lucifer stood up and began to stalk into the street toward the wreckage of the SUV.

"Lucifer!" Mercy called after him. "What if they're still alive?"

"That's what I'm counting on," Lucifer said over his shoulder.

Mercy groaned and forced herself to stand. This couldn't be happening. Had she been found already? Was it her fault Delilah was dead?

By the time Mercy reached Lucifer's side, the Devil was gripping the front of the man in the back passenger seat. There was a gun near the man's feet, and he looked like he'd suffered some severe injury from the wreck.

"Why?" Lucifer was demanding. "Why do this? Why kill Delilah? Tell me!"

The man coughed weakly. "Why else? Money."

Mercy looked carefully at the SUV, her heart pounding. She saw the driver, dead at the wheel, but no one else.

"Was it just those two?" Mercy asked. "Was there anyone else? A woman?"

"You heard the lady," Lucifer snapped.

But the man's head fell to the side and he didn't move or speak again. Mercy put her hands to her mouth and walked away, trembling. After a moment, Lucifer was at her side, his phone to his ear.

"Lux, yes, the nightclub," he said into it. He must have dialed 911. "There's been a shooting and a car wreck, it's all a mess, really. Uh, at least three dead, two injured. Thank you. Please hurry."

Mercy reached the side of the street again, not far from Delilah's body. She looked at it for a moment before shuddering and her eyes tearing up.

"Mercy?" Lucifer grabbed her arm gently. "Mercy, do you want to go inside?"

"It's my fault," Mercy breathed. "I'm the reason she's dead."

"Don't be absurd, Mercy," Lucifer said. "That man was hired to kill her, how could you possibly be to blame?"

Mercy shook her head, unable to form the words she wanted. She pushed her back against the wall and closed her eyes.

"Why did you ask about a woman?" Lucifer asked. "What's going on here, Mercy?"

Before she could answer, there was the wail of sirens approaching them. Lucifer exhaled in slight irritation and tugged Mercy gently.

"Come on, we should have that arm looked at," he said.

Mercy glanced over at her wound, which continued to slowly soak her sleeve in blood. She pushed out a tight breath and let Lucifer guide her toward the building's entrance. Others were showing up now, some from the nearby buildings, some from down the street. A couple of men in black tee shirts and pants came trotting out from Lux.

"Sir, are you all right?" one asked.

Mercy recognized them as some of the club's bouncers.

"Yes, but Mercy here has a rather nasty wound." Lucifer said. "Hospital is farther off; I'm taking her upstairs to get it cleaned and bandaged, send the officers and paramedics up, all right?"

"Of course, sir," the bouncer said.

"Shouldn't we stay down here?" Mercy rasped as Lucifer walked her inside.

"They can ask their questions upstairs," Lucifer said, stepping into the elevator while pulling his cell from his pocket and making a call. "Maze? Yes, that was gunfire. Clear the club, we're closing early tonight, considering."

A few minutes later Mercy was sitting at one of the tables in the empty club, one close to the piano. Lucifer came walking back to her with a small white kit in his hands.

"I'll admit, I'm not entirely familiar with how to mend wounds," he said.

"Did you change?" Mercy asked, noticing that he was wearing a lighter gray suit jacket and vest.

"Yes, well, bullet holes with no blood tends to get a lot of questions," Lucifer explained.

"But you don't hide the fact that you're the Devil," Mercy reminded him.

"No, but it's just annoying trying to explain things sometimes," Lucifer said, setting the kit on the table and popping it open. "Even if I say, 'I'm the Devil,' you'd be surprised how little people take that as an acceptable answer."

Lucifer looked from the kit to Mercy's arm. She was wearing a long sleeve shirt, one of her favorites, sadly. It was blue with a white sparrow in flight on the front.

"I think I have to cut off the sleeve," Lucifer said, peering at the tear in the fabric.

"Ah ha, no, no, no," Mercy said as he pulled a pair of scissors from the kit.

"No?" Lucifer frowned.

"You're not poking around my open wound with scissors to cut off my sleeve after you just admitted to not knowing how to mend wounds," Mercy told him.

Lucifer huffed irritably. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm quite delicate when I want to be. Comes in handy in so many ways."

"Oh my hell," Mercy breathed.

Lucifer blinked at her. "Hell?"

"Oh. Yeah. Uh, raised in a lot of private schools," Mercy explained. "The whole Lord's name in vain thing is kinda engraved into my head."

"I won't complain," Lucifer said with a shrug as he made to reach for her sleeve.

Mercy winced before he even touched her and he sighed.

"It's still bleeding and we don't know when the paramedics are getting here," Lucifer said. "Trust me."

Mercy took a deep breath, eyed him for a moment longer before giving him a small nod.

Lucifer gingerly gripped her sleeve and pulled it up from her skin. The blood that had glued it to her flesh pulled painfully and Mercy gasped. Lucifer stopped, peering at her questioningly.

"It's fine," Mercy assured. "Just get on with it."

Smiling briefly, Lucifer returned his attention to the sleeve. He slowly put the scissors through the tear the bullet hat made and delicately cut the fabric. With a few swift and precise snips, the sleeve was suddenly free from her shoulder. Lucifer tugged it off her arm and put it on the table. Nearly the whole thing was dyed a deep maroon.

"There, see?" Lucifer grinned at her.

Mercy looked over a the wound. It wasn't as deep as she thought; at least she wouldn't need stitches. Lucifer began to pull out bandages and when he unraveled a roll of gauze, Mercy shook her head at him.

"It has to be cleaned," she murmured.

"Oh, right, infection," Lucifer said, putting the gauze aside. "You humans are so fragile... like a house of cards..."

He pulled out a small water bottle and a white rag. With surprising delicacy, he put some water on the rag and began to wipe away the caked blood. Mercy winced a few times as it pulled at the gash, but motioned for Lucifer to keep going.

Mercy's mind was numb. She'd spent so much time and effort in keeping hidden. Was it the band? Had it gotten so popular that somehow, somewhere, that witch of a woman saw it and recognized her? Had all of Conor's efforts been for naught?

"Y-you said that man was hired to kill Delilah," Mercy whispered. "How do you know?"

"He told me," Lucifer said. "You heard him. I asked why he killed Delilah, he said for money."

"But how... how do you know he was talking about Delilah?" Mercy asked.

Lucifer paused washing her arm and looked up into her eyes. "He would have corrected me otherwise. His will was rather pliable compared to most. He answered the question directly."

"You're certain he..." Mercy closed her eyes and took another breath.

Could it be just a coincidence? Was the man really only after Delilah?

"I'm positive," Lucifer said firmly. He started washing her arm again. "Mercy... why would you think someone wants to kill you?"

Before she could reply, the elevator doors open and an attractive woman walked into the club. She had long honey-blonde hair tied back from her face and wore dark pants with a black shirt and jacket. At her hip was a golden badge and near it was a gun holster equipped with a pistol.

She looked around before spotting Lucifer and Mercy and strode purposefully toward them.

"You two are the witnesses?" she asked, pulling out a small notepad from a back pocket.

"Yes," Lucifer answered, looking up at her curiously before continuing to clean Mercy's arm.

"I'm Detective Chloe Decker," the woman introduced. She spotted Mercy's wound for the first time when she walked around the back of the high-backed bench they sat in. "Are you all right?" she asked, eyes widening slightly.

"I-I think so. It j-just grazed me," Mercy stammered. How was she supposed to answer this cop's questions? She supposed she could just go with whatever Lucifer said.

"We have paramedics on the way," Chloe said.

"I think I've actually got it," Lucifer said, sounding a bit surprised with himself. "Clean, disinfect, bandage, yeah?"

"I think it's her choice," Chloe said, shooting Lucifer a slightly irate look.

"Uh, well, let's see how far he's gotten when they get here," Mercy said.

Chloe glanced between the two of them before pulling out a pen and flipping open her notepad. "Do you two mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"We're all ears, Detective," Lucifer said, casting her a smile.

"Can I get your names?" Chloe said.

"Mercy Townsend is this lovely young lady," Lucifer introduced. "And I'm Lucifer Morningstar."

Chloe blinked. "Lucifer Morningstar? What is that, a stage name or something?"

"Mercy's the performer, actually," Lucifer said. "As for me, the name's God-given, I'm afraid."

The same thing he said to Mercy the first time she asked about it.

Chloe frowned at her notepad for a moment longer before shaking her head and writing down the names. Lucifer put the now bloodied rag on the table and got a clean one. He'd gotten all the blood away from the wound, and it seemed to be slowing in its bleeding. He grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the kit and Mercy pressed her lips into a tight line.

"That's gonna hurt like a bitch, isn't it?" she said.

"I dunno, is it?" Lucifer poured some of the bottle's contents on the rag. "You'll have to tell me."

Chloe frowned and put her notepad on the table. "I'm a certified first responder, how about you let me do that part."

Lucifer looked between Chloe and Mercy. "What's the difference going to be?"

Chloe snatched the rag out of his hand and gestured for Mercy to scoot over. Mercy shrugged weakly at Lucifer before obliging the Detective. Chloe sat down beside Mercy and began to gently dab the rag on the wound.

Mercy gaze out a hiss of pain through clenched teeth and flinched. Chloe patted her shoulder as she continued to dab.

"I know, it stings," she said soothingly. "Just a bit more."

Mercy cast her a grateful glance. Chloe was like a nurturing mother with how careful she was. After a few more painful seconds, the Detective put the cloth aside and grabbed a few adhesive strips from the kit. She gingerly put three across the gash, helping it keep closed. Then, Chloe put a large bandage over the whole thing before carefully wrapping it in the gauze.

"If it starts bleeding again or anything, you should have a doctor look at it," Chloe said. "But I think it should be fine."

"Thanks," Mercy said.

Chloe nodded and got back to her feet. Lucifer had gone over to the piano and watched while plinking a few random notes.

"Good to know for future reference," he said, gesturing to Mercy's bandaged arm.

"You're not planning on you two getting shot at again, are you?" Chloe asked as she pulled out her notepad again.

"Well, no, of course not," Lucifer said. "But as I was telling Mercy shortly before you arrived, you humans are just so fragile."

"And what planet are you from, London?" Chloe replied in a clipped tone.

Lucifer snorted but then he frowned at her and leaned forward. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

"No," Chloe said. "Now, Mr. Morningstar, what was your relationship to the victim?"

"Delilah? She was my friend," Lucifer said. He peered closer at Chloe. "Are you quite sure we've never met? I distinctly recall seeing you naked. Have we had sex?"

Chloe looked up from her notepad with a murderous expression. She looked over at Mercy and asked, "Is he always like this?"

"From what I've seen, yeah," Mercy replied honestly.

"What?" Lucifer frowned at both of them.

"Mr. Morningstar, would you care to enlighten me how one woman was gunned down and another injured, but you didn't get a scratch?" Chloe asked.

"Well, being immortal has its advantages," Lucifer replied.

Mercy's eyes widened. What was the point in changing clothes if he was going to say something like that?

"Right..." Chloe frowned at him.

"Now, what about you?" Lucifer asked. "Are you and your corrupt organization going to find her killer and punish him properly?"

"Her killer is dead," Chloe said.

"Sure, the man who pulled the trigger," Lucifer said, swiveling on the piano bench to face Chloe fully. "But not the one who ordered her death."

"How do you know someone ordered her death?" Chloe demanded.

"Because that shooter told me," Lucifer replied.

"He told you?" Chloe perked a brow. "He died from internal injuries."

"His soul hadn't crossed the threshold yet," Lucifer explained.

"He did say something about doing it for money," Mercy said. "I heard it."

Chloe furrowed her brow and frowned down at her notepad before scribbling in it.

"So, you'll look into it?" Lucifer pressed.

"I've made note of it," Chloe said. "Listen, we might need more from both of you, so stay in town. I'll send another officer up to get your recollection of the event itself."

"Thanks again for the... the bandaging," Mercy said as she headed for the elevator.

Chloe looked back at her and offered a small smile. "I hope it mends quickly."


	3. Chapter 3

"You were _shot?!_"

Mercy groaned and laid across the bench that hugged the table. "I was grazed, it hardly counts."

"Dude, that so counts!" Hutch exclaimed.

All four of the band were sitting in the club early in the afternoon. Their weekly show wasn't for that night, but after Blake caught wind of the shooting from Maze, all of them came rushing over.

"This is why America terrifies me," Miles said. "Seriously. Need a gun? Pop down to the Walmart and you're sorted."

"It had to be awful," Blake said. She was sitting near Mercy's head and peered down at her. "You're okay? I mean, you kinda saw a chick die."

"I uh... I mean, yeah?" Mercy sat up and shrugged. "Well, it was bad. Like shit, bad. But, I dunno, I'm not falling apart, so that's good."

"Dunno if that should worry us or not," Hutch said with a nervous chuckle.

"Same," Mercy agreed.

"Shit timing," Blake noted.

"Yeah, there's that," Mercy sighed.

It was November 10th, marking four years past without her mother. It wasn't so much that each year got _easier... _it was more like each year changed. It seemed to be losing it's intensity, but instead it turned into this slow burn of... anguish.

"Do you want us to stay with you?" Miles inquired gently.

Mercy gave him a grateful smile. "I should be fine. Too much excitement for there to be any... lingering."

"You call us the second you need us," Blake said, poking her in the cheek. "Serious, Little Angel."

"Mercy, you down here? I have an errand to run and was going to take you along," Lucifer's voice came from the stairs as he slowly descended into the room. "Best you're not here without me, right? After all, Amena..."

Mercy twisted in her seat to see Lucifer trail off when he spotted the other band members.

"Oh, you have company!" he noted.

"Hey," Hutch greeted with a small nod. "Crazy shit last night, right?"

Lucifer scoffed slightly. "Yes, _crazy shit._ Gotta love those crazy nights when people gun other people down."

"Oh, oh, I didn't mean..." Hutch looked mildly mortified.

"Don't fret, Hutch, I jest," Lucifer said, striding toward them.

"What were you talking about? Is Mercy not allowed to stay here by herself or something?" Miles asked.

"What?" Lucifer blinked then seemed to realize what he had been saying. "Oh! No, no, no, of course not. I mean, she can stay here whenever she likes, company or no."

"Then what's an Amena?" Blake asked with a small smirk.

Lucifer let out a small, exasperated breath. Mercy knew he wasn't going to lie, so she did it for him.

"An inside joke, kind of," she invented. "There was this weirdo at the club a few nights ago that wouldn't leave me alone. Called himself Amenadiel."

"Biblical," Hutch noted with a laugh.

"Lucifer came to the rescue," Mercy said, then frowned. "That's a sentence I never imagined saying."

"You're going out?" Blake asked Lucifer.

"Uh, yes," Lucifer replied, pushing his hands into his pockets. "I have a few things to go take care of. Was hoping for a sidekick." He grinned toward Mercy.

"You two got shot at yesterday and you need to go by the shop for some milk?" Miles asked, raising his brows.

"Oh, Miles, don't think so ill of me, you'll hurt my feelings," Lucifer said, shooting Miles a smoldering glance.

"Ah, Lord Almighty," Miles breathed, adverting his gaze.

"Oh, don't bring him into it," Lucifer groaned.

"What exactly are you wanting to go do?" Mercy asked, frowning at him.

"Ask some questions of an old friend," Lucifer replied. "Crash a wedding."

"Crash a..." Blake blinked rapidly. "I'm starting to get why Maze is so crazy sometimes. She hangs out with a lunatic."

"Mercy got hurt yesterday," Hutch said. "She was shot! And you want her to go waltz about at a wedding?"

"Sure, why not?" Lucifer shrugged.

Mercy sighed and patted Hutch's shoulder. "An adventure sounds a bit nice, actually."

"Seriously?" Miles asked.

"Yeah." Mercy hopped to her feet. "Something new. Something distracting."

"I swear, if we have to bail you out of jail, I'll be pissed," Blake teased.

Mercy got to her feet and shrugged. "You assume I'll get caught."

Lucifer chuckled softly, eyes sparkling with delight. "I like that attitude."

"Call us for backup," Hutch called as the two headed to the elevator.

* * *

"Crashing a wedding..." Mercy murmured. "Fun thing to check off my bucket list."

Lucifer grinned over at her. He was driving them in his sleek, black car. It looked like something out of the 50s, but at the same time was modern and even high tech. Lucifer had the roof down as they drove out of the city.

"Yes, well, Jimmy Barnes is getting married today," Lucifer said. "What a better time to ask if he had anything to do with Delilah's death?"

"You think he'll just tell you?" Mercy asked.

"People like to tell me things," Lucifer said. "Remember? Their darkest desires... so if I poke and prod about a desire to kill Delilah, I should be able to get him to talk. If it's not him, he might point us the direction of the real killer."

"What about the police?" Mercy queried.

"What about them?" Lucifer patted his door to the beat of the song coming from the stereo.

"I mean... they're going to look into it, right?" Mercy said. "Why're we doing their job?"

"Because I highly doubt they'll do it in the first place," Lucifer said. "I'm going to ensure that Delilah's killer is properly punished."

There was a brilliant gleam in his eyes. Mercy wasn't sure if she liked the excitement there. The word sadism popped into her mind; she got the feeling Lucifer enjoyed torturing others. Mercy had the theory even before she met him that he was just a warden of a prison. The punisher of the evil and damned that were sent to Hell. However, somehow she seemed to forget what that might mean...

"So..." Lucifer patted his door a few more times before glancing at Mercy. "Are you going to tell me who you think is trying to kill you?"

Mercy managed to get out answering him the previous day by stating she was exhausted and went to bed. She completely forgot that it was something he'd prod about again.

"Do I have to?" Mercy sighed, leaning back in her seat.

"Well, my main reason for you being here with me now other than giving me something nice to look at is to protect you," Lucifer said. "Amenadiel might drop by Lux looking for me and if he shows up there when I'm not but you are, well..."

"This isn't the same, Luci," Mercy said.

"I'm pretty sure it's fairly similar," Lucifer argued. "It's still a threat. I intend to find out exactly what you are and I can't do that if you're dead."

"Oh, well thanks for that," Mercy scoffed.

"Ugh, again with that," Lucifer groaned. "Listen, it isn't just about the whole... immune to angelic power thing that is my motivation."

"It isn't?" Mercy said in disbelief.

"No," Lucifer said. "You as a person are quite fascinating. I'm inclined to appreciate you and all your intricacies. I... respect you."

Mercy shook her head at him. "Well, how kind of you. I'm glad I keep you entertained."

Lucifer laughed. "Come on now... Listen, Mercy, I want to protect you. So tell me, who could want you dead? And why? I mean, you're a Little Angel." He smirked.

Mercy let out a long breath and looked out to her right to watch the buildings zip by.

"Her name is Victoria Moore," she finally said.

"This is the woman you were asking about," Lucifer stated rather than asked.

Mercy nodded.

"Why would this woman want you dead?" Lucifer asked.

"Because I..." Mercy bit her lip briefly and sighed again. "I was proof that her husband wasn't exactly content in their marriage."

Lucifer shot her a confused glance. Mercy didn't want to elaborate; she didn't want to get into this conversation at all.

"You were a home wrecker?" Lucifer asked.

When Mercy didn't reply, his face fell into one of dawned realization.

"No, no... you _mother_ was. You were the little illegitimate child from a scandalous affair." Lucifer tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "This Victoria really wants to kill you over _that?_"

"She tried four years ago," Mercy said. "Four years ago... today. She got my mom instead."

Lucifer looked over at Mercy in shock. "She... she _killed_ your mother?"

Mercy nodded. "And she managed to twist it all around and frame my brother, Conor. He's her son, but when he tried to protect me, I guess he became a target too."

"Humans never cease to amaze," Lucifer breathed. "And you're certain that _you _were the intended target? Most people would want to go after the one who slept with their partner, not the offspring."

Mercy closed her eyes briefly. "I... I'm sure."

"But how can you be?" Lucifer prodded. "I mean, what happened, exactly? Did you walk in to see this Victoria woman cry out 'Die, Mercy!' and stab your mum?"

Mercy bit her lip and looked to the side, her eyes beginning to burn. "I just know, okay? Isn't that enough?"

Lucifer didn't speak for a moment. Mercy dared a glance over at him to see he was pursing his lips and his brows had lowered. He looked both sheepish and frustrated.

"Apologies," he finally said. "I just find that I want to know every detail about you. Sometimes my curiosity gets ahead of me."

Mercy took a deep breath and put her hands in her lap, twining her fingers together. "I'll tell you one day," she murmured. "But not now."

"Fair enough," Lucifer said. "Though... might I venture a guess? Is that why you're... so calm considering you saw someone die last night?"

"Probably part of it, yeah," Mercy replied.

"You can't answer like that!" Lucifer whined. "Insinuating that there's more in that past of yours that could lead you to a point where it's just a bit startling and upsetting watching someone get gunned down."

"I'm just... I know how to take things in stride, I suppose." Mercy shrugged.

Lucifer laughed. "Well, then I suppose you were the perfect one to gain an immunity to angels. Anyone else would've probably gone insane by now."

A few minutes later, Lucifer pulled up to the forefront of a rather packed parking lot. There was a valet service at the front, and as Lucifer hopped out of the car and the valet approached, looking baffled, the Devil pulled out his wallet.

"Leave her here, if you could," Lucifer said to the young man, pulling out three hundred dollars and pressing it into the valet's palm. "We won't be a moment."

The valet blinked in utter confusion, but he didn't say or do anything to stop them. Mercy got out of the car and trotted after Lucifer, giving a small, thankful nod to the young man.

The venue was exquisite, to say the least. It stretched across a cliff top that was blanketed in lush, green grass and tall oak trees vibrant with color. The wedding was taking place near the edge so that behind the lovely couple was a view of the open sky and sea below. Mercy couldn't help but wonder how much money this guy had.

There was a man in security guard attire striding to greet them as they approached the small opening in the decorative hedges that wrapped around the ceremony area. Mercy went to Lucifer's side and cast him a questioning look. He waved her off and winked before looking toward the man approaching them.

"Good afternoon, sir," Lucifer greeted cheerfully. "I just need a quick word with the groom, if you don't mind."

"The ceremony is taking place right now," the man said. He was taller and broader than Lucifer, but Mercy had a feeling her landlord could bench press the guy.

"Oh, even better!" Lucifer said, walking right by the guy and toward the opening.

"Sir!" the security guard protested, trying to step in front of him.

"Oh come on now, what will it take to convince you?" Lucifer asked, coming to a halt. "What is that you long for most? It just might be in my power to grant it."

As he looked at him, the man's face grew slack and his eyes hazy. Mercy trotted to Lucifer's side and gripped his arm.

"Is-is this it?" she whispered. "Is this the thing?"

"The _thing,_ how quaint," Lucifer sighed. "Yes. Now, come on, chap, what is it you want?"

"I... I..." the man stammered. "I want my father to stop pressuring me to join the military."

Lucifer made a face. "Oh, dull. How about something more... immediate? Something materiel?"

"No, no. Luci, wait," Mercy said, holding up her hand. She looked at the man, young, fit, dark hair and beard. "I know a parent's wishes and image of us is important, even if we don't want to admit it. But what he wants for you is to live a fulfilling and meaningful life. Just tell him that though he might not see it, what you do makes a difference. You help people stay safe, here in our own country."

The man blinked rapidly, seemingly moved by her words. "Y-yes, that might work."

"You don't need his validation, even if it doesn't," Mercy assured him. "Live your life for you, uh... what's your name?"

"Kent."

"Kent, you go call your father right now," Mercy said. "Tell him what I said, and remember to be true to yourself."

Kent nodded and hurried away, his eyes wet with tears.

Lucifer slowly turned to look at Mercy, his brows raised. "That was brilliant."

"Don't sound so shocked," Mercy muttered.

"No, really, sappy and horrifically cliche, but brilliant," Lucifer said.

"Well, thanks," Mercy said, grinning a little.

Lucifer offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"We're gonna walk arm and arm down the aisle?" Mercy said incredulously.

"How else would we?" Lucifer perked a brow at her.

Mercy grinned a little and put her arm in his. Like a proper gentlemen, he led her to the opening in the hedges. As they emerged, Lucifer immediately called out, bringing all the attention of the massive audience and the couple at the end of the aisle to them.

"Excuse me," he said. "Yeah, I have a problem."

Mercy walked along with Lucifer toward the arch, resisting the urge to apologize to everyone they passed. Lucifer's stride was confident and his expression was a mixture of smug and lingering anger. After all, if this was the man behind Delilah's death, well... Well, what? Mercy suddenly wanted to stop Lucifer right there and demand exactly how he was going to punish the killer.

"Has-has anyone else noticed how incredibly, jaw-droppingly, loin-stirringly beautiful this young woman is—" Lucifer said, gesturing to the bride with his free hand, "—and how short, sweaty, and altogether fugly this homunculus is? I mean, what is this, a wedding or a kidnapping? Do you know what I mean?"

Now Mercy was trying her best not to laugh as they paused just before the couple. _Damn,_ that was some good insulting. She was tempted to ironically say, "Sick burn," but managed to keep herself to just sniggering softly.

The priest that had been performing the ceremony stared at Lucifer in mild fear and made the symbol of the Catholic cross on his chest. Lucifer smirked at his efforts.

"Yeah, good luck with that, Padre," he said. "Ooh, while you're at it, say hey for me. It's been a while."

The priest proceeded to quickly step off the stage and fled off to the right and out of sight beyond the foliage.

Lucifer chuckled and walked up onto the stage to stand directly in front of the groom. Mercy released his arm and noted that the Devil's earlier comments were true. The bride was tall, blonde, curvy, and in her early twenties. The man was a head shorter than her with gray, thinning hair and messy facial hair. His build was portly, and his skin had an oily sheen on it.

"Jimmy Barnes!" Lucifer greeted. "Remember me?"

"Hey, man, this is a private event," Jimmy said in a harsh but low tone. "How did you get in here? And who the hell is this?"

Lucifer ignored his questions. "Yeah, and quite a lavish one for a record producer on the outs. You do remember me, don't you?"

Jimmy's expression fell into one of submission and he sighed. "Yeah, I remember you. Now what do you want? I'm a little busy."

"Well, I can't believe that you're getting married the day after your ex-fiancé and once brightest star was murdered in cold blood," Lucifer said, his voice just loud enough to carry to the audience.

Mercy looked over her shoulder to see several people muttering to one another. Even the bride looked a bit appalled.

"Yeah, that's very sad," Jimmy muttered. "But you know what, she ruined my wedding once, I'm not about to let it happen again."

Mercy furrowed her brows and took a step forward. "Are you serious? Like it was _her_ fault someone gunned her down?"

"Seriously, who _is_ this?" Jimmy gestured to Mercy. "She looks too educated to be one of your typical sluts."

Mercy pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose self-consciously.

"Now, now, Jimmy, no need for name-calling," Lucifer scolded. "I'm asking the questions. It's hard to be rejected, isn't it, Jimmy? Twice."

Jimmy chuckled nervously. "What?"

"Well, you tried to get her back recently," Lucifer said. "I mean, I'd kill someone if they denied me _once._ Not that that's possible."

Mercy elbowed him in the side and Lucifer's confident bravado was broken for a brief moment. He shot her a glance and sighed.

"All right, present company excluded," he muttered.

Mercy grinned at him.

Lucifer turned to Jimmy again, straightening his jacket. "So, come on, what do you say, Jimbo, huh? Did you want her dead?"

Jimmy adverted his gaze as Lucifer loomed over him. Mercy was starting to assume his power resided in his eyes. That's what she was drawn to when he tried it on her and it seemed to be what Jimmy was trying to avoid.

"Look, stop looking at me that way, you freak," Jimmy snapped. "I am not playing that mind game with you."

"No, of course not!" Lucifer said, but kept on staring.

Jimmy sighed irritably. "I was furious and humiliated when she dumped me, but I think, I-I think I've rebounded pretty well."

Lucifer looked over at the beautiful bride and nodded approvingly. "Yes, clearly. Respect."

The woman smiled, clearly flattered by Lucifer's praise. She began to eye him as if she was curious what he looked like without the suit.

"Should go play your mind games with 2Vile." Jimmy said, noticing the exchanged and trying to gain Lucifer's attention away from his bride.

"The rapper?" Lucifer asked, looking back at him.

"What kind of name is that?" Mercy whispered, wrinkling her nose.

"Come on," Jimmy urged. "Delilah dumped me for that lunatic. They were always fighting. He slapped her around a bunch. He surrounds himself with gun-toting morons 24-7. He is the real deal."

"Right..." Lucifer said, his expression thoughtful for a moment before he turned back to the bride. "Sorry, how rude. Allow me to introduce myself, Lucifer Morningstar. And this spunky little redhead is Mercy Townsend."

The bride hesitated as Lucifer's piercing gaze found hers.

"I really don't want to have sex with him tonight," she said abruptly.

The congregation behind them all gasped. Mercy frowned and nudged Lucifer.

"You didn't even try that time," she said.

"Sometimes, they just want to get it out," Lucifer replied.

"Oh, my I'm sorry," the bride said hurriedly. "I-I can't believe I just said that."

"Oh, no, no, no," Lucifer said soothingly. "Let's be honest here. I mean, you're not marrying this human stain 'cause you're actually in love with him, right?"

"God, no," the bride said, shaking her head adamantly.

"No," Lucifer agreed with a smile. "Right." He clapped his hands together. "Well, we best be going. Mercy?"

"Yeah, yeah please," Mercy said.

Lucifer began heading down the aisle, Mercy just behind him. He suddenly paused to turn back.

"Ooh! Best of luck with you crazy kids, all right?" he said, then continued to swagger away.

Mercy trotted after him, stuck between embarrassed that she helped crash a wedding and writhing with the giggles at the whole ordeal. When they were back in the car and on the road, she finally let out a long laugh, wiping tears from her eyes by the end. Lucifer was smiling smugly as he let her get it out.

"That shouldn't have been as fun as it was," Mercy breathed when she finally caught her breath.

"Glad you found some enjoyment out of it," Lucifer said.

Mercy sat up in her seat and frowned over at him. "So that's how all other humans respond to you?"

"In varying degrees, but yes," Lucifer replied.

"Gotta admit, I'm kinda glad I'm immune," Mercy said.

"Why?" Lucifer asked. "Surely, there's something freeing in acknowledging those deep dark desires hidden away."

"Yeah, freeing and make you look like a drooling idiot," Mercy said. "I'm pretty sure that bride was undressing you with her eyes."

"Really?" Lucifer puffed out his chest a little. "Maybe she'll swing by Lux later."

"Please, like you didn't notice," Mercy scoffed.

Lucifer laughed softly. "Well, no one has ever told me no. Until you, that is." He glanced over at her. "And you helped with that man's desire surprisingly efficiently."

"Well, I'm thinking that the emotional stuff might go over your head," Mercy said. "No offense. So when someone's desire is more... internal, maybe I can help."

"I've never really been one to ask for help," Lucifer huffed. "But I must admit, just having you along is making this much more enjoyable."

"Thanks, always fun trying to track down a killer," Mercy replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Perhaps along the way, it will let us learn more about you," Lucifer mused.

Mercy sighed softly. She'd been down the chasing killers road before. It felt familiar, but at the same time it raised a sense of growing anxiousness in her. However, when she looked over to see Lucifer smiling warmly at her, she managed to smile back.

* * *

2Vile lived in a very lavish estate that looked like it should be an apartment complex. Rap and hip hop wasn't Mercy's type of music, in fact it was her least favorite due to how little weight the lyrics held. There was no meaning, no feeling. It was just... noise to her. Well, that was in most cases. There were a few outliers that Mercy enjoyed.

When they pulled up and parked, Lucifer leaned back, eyeing the building with one arm up on his seat.

"Right, so good ol' Jimmy said that 2Vile keeps armed men around him, so I'm going to suggest you stay here," he said.

"Probably a good idea," Mercy agreed. "But what exactly is your plan?"

"I plan on getting some answers," Lucifer said as he got out of the car. "I'll leave the keys so you can listen to the radio."

"And so we can make a quick getaway?" Mercy grinned.

Lucifer shrugged before turning and heading toward the entrance.

There was a man in black clothing standing guard with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. The car was parked just close enough for Mercy to catch their conversation.

"Good afternoon, sir," Lucifer greeted cheerfully. "Yes, I'm here to see the man sadly known as 2Vile, is he in?"

"I'm sorry, sir, he's unavailable," the man replied curtly. "He's in mourning, I'm afraid."

"Right." Lucifer lowered his head in thought for a moment, then looked up with abrupt purpose. "I have narcotics for him."

"Right this way, sir," the guard said, turning and opening the doors.

Lucifer turned back and winked at Mercy before heading inside and out of sight. Mercy let out a long exhale through her lips and leaned back in her seat. Looked up at the four-story building, she figured this 2Vile guy would be on the top floor. From where she was, she could see a balcony looking out over the pool to the right of the structure.

Mercy wished she had a smart phone to fiddle with. Her cell had all of two games: snake and solitaire. She turned on the radio and filtered through the stations until she found a song she liked.

After sitting there for about five minutes without anything of note happening, the guard hadn't returned to his post, so she had to assume that he was still with Lucifer. At the faint sound of a car engine approaching, Mercy sat up in her seat and turned to see a sleek, black car approaching. A closer look showed it was an undercover police car—Mercy could see the bars separating the back and front seats.

The car pulled up next to their parking spot and a familiar figure stepped out of the driving seat, frowning at Mercy.

"Oh," Mercy said. "Detective... uh, Chloe, right? Decker?"

Chloe nodded as she locked and closed the door behind her. "Mercy Townsend. What are you doing here?"

"Um..." Mercy fidgeted in slight discomfort. "We were... uh..."

"We?" Chloe echoed with a perked brow. "What do you mean, who's with you?" Her expression suddenly fell. "Is it Lucifer?"

"I mean..." Mercy cleared her throat awkwardly.

Chloe gave an exasperated sigh. "Is he in there?" She pointed toward the building.

"He just wanted to ask some questions," Mercy said.

"Come on." Chloe waved for Mercy to get out of the car.

"Wh-what, why?" Mercy stammered.

"Because I don't know what's going on, and I'd prefer to keep my eye on you," Chloe said. "Would you rather wait in my car?"

"You can't do that," Mercy protested. "...can you?"

"You're on private property, and depending on what your buddy is doing, sitting in the car would be the least of your concerns," Chloe said sternly.

"All right, all right," Mercy said, turning off the car and hopping out while pocketing the keys.

As they approached the entrance, Mercy frowned over at Chloe.

"Don't you need a warrant to go inside without being invited?" Mercy asked. "Like a vampire?"

Chloe scoffed at the comment. "I was planning on ringing the doorbell."

They paused in front of the double glass doors that led inside. Chloe looked around with increasing confusion.

"There doesn't seem to be one," Mercy said.

"I noticed," Chloe sighed.

Then, somewhere overhead, there was the sharp sound of a gunshot. Chloe instantly grabbed the pistol holstered at her hip as Mercy peered upward.

"It came from near the balcony on the top floor," she told the Detective in a slightly shaky voice.

"All right, probable cause is our ticket in, it seems," Chloe said as she opened the doors. She grabbed her walkie from her belt and spoke into it. "This is Detective Decker at 246 Ashland Lane, shots fired, requesting immediate back up. Repeat, shots fired, requesting immediate back up." She holstered the walkie and looked back at Mercy, who hadn't moved to follow. "What are you doing? Come on."

"You still want me to go with you?" Mercy asked incredulously.

"I'm on my own, back up is on the way, I don't know how involved you are, so you need to stay with me," Chloe snapped.

"They shot a gun up there," Mercy reminded her. "I've had enough close calls with that." She gestured to her bandaged arm.

"Stay behind me, and do everything I say," Chloe ordered. "Now!"

Mercy gave a small groan and trotted after the Detective into the building. The first floor seemed to be a wide entrance hall, and within immediate eyesight was an elevator. Chloe and Mercy ran to it and hopped inside the moment its doors opened.

"We were told 2Vile keeps a lot of, uh, 'gun-toting morons' around him," Mercy said. "And that he was abusive toward Delilah."

"Who told...?" Chloe began, but shook her head as the elevator rose. "Never mind, later. At least we haven't heard anymore shots."

"Yeah, that worries me," Mercy whispered.

Chloe glanced toward her. "Lucifer might still be okay."

Mercy pursed her lips. It wasn't Lucifer she was worried about. If someone tried to shoot him, what if he decided to fight back? What if there was a bloodbath up here that wasn't going to be easy to explain to a police officer? Then again, Mercy recalled hearing Lucifer say he didn't kill people.

The elevator doors opened, and Chloe carefully stepped out first into a wide hallway. She looked left and right, then beckoned Mercy to follow her. Mercy carefully tiptoed after the Detective, cursing internally. The walls and floor were mainly white but the lighting had a blue hue to it. Toward the end of the hall, it turned a corner and bloomed open in a large room.

Chloe gestured for Mercy to stop before she rounded the corner.

"LAPD!" she shouted. "Guns down. On the floor, down! You two, against the wall."

Mercy couldn't help but peek around the corner. The room seemed to be a lounge. There was a DJ set up, several sleek couches and tables that were littered with empty beer bottles and wrappers for chips and sweets. There were about seven men in the room, all slowly putting their guns on the ground as Chloe aimed her gun around at them.

"Detective, welcome to the party."

Lucifer strode toward Chloe casually. Behind him was a black man in baggy clothing and a long gold chain around his neck. He looked out of breath and traumatized. Behind _him_ was the shattered remains of a large window that led out to the balcony.

"Grab the bucket," Chloe ordered one of the men, gesturing to a small metal bucket full of ice and beer bottles. "Collect the guns."

"Now, you sly dog, you did listen to me," Lucifer said, smiling at Chloe.

"I ran the dead guy's cell phone," Chloe explained. "2Vile was the last person he called."

"Come on, man," the worn-out looking man behind Lucifer groaned. Mercy guessed that was 2Vile.

"What I find highly interesting is how you and your girlfriend made the connection on your own," Chloe said, glaring at Lucifer.

"Girlfriend...?" Lucifer said with a frown, then spotted Mercy peering around the corner. "Mercy? What are you doing here?"

"Detective Intense insisted," Mercy said, gesturing weakly to Chloe as she stepped fully around the corner. The guns had all been put in the bucket and placed at Chloe's feet, so she assumed she was safe.

"Detective!" Lucifer said, shooting Chloe a look of disbelief. "You dragged a civilian into a potential gun fight?"

"I don't know how involved she is," Chloe said, then turned her attention to 2Vile. "Talk to me about Delilah."

"We've ben over that one, Detective," Lucifer said.

Chloe ignored him. "And why you called the shooter two days before she was murdered."

"Fine," 2Vile sighed. "Yeah, I called Eddie 'cause he hooks me up sometimes. He met Delilah through me, whatever. Don't make me a killer, do it?"

"No, but it does make you a suspect," Chloe said.

"What, so everyone on Eddie's phone's a suspect?" 2Vile scoffed. "Are you joking? You gonna drag half of Hollywood downtown. Be like the Oscars or something."

"Wait," one of the men said, eyeing Chloe, "aren't you that chick from that film?"

"Hmm, what's this?" Lucifer asked, raising his brows curiously. "What film?"

"You used to be an actress or something, right?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said, nodding in growing agitation.

"That teen movie, I forget what it's called," the man murmured.

Lucifer's face lit up suddenly. "Of course, Hot Tub High School. That's where I know you from."

Mercy frowned. "Hot Tub High School?"

"Let's just stick to my questions, shall we?" Chloe pressed.

"The one with the famous nude scene coming out of the hot tub!" Lucifer said, looking at Mercy now. "You haven't seen it? It was like a complete Fast Times rip-off. She was like the new Phoebe Cates!"

Mercy shook her head, not knowing what those things were either as Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," she muttered.

"That was quite a nude scene," Lucifer said appreciatively.

"I have far too many bullets in this thing for you to still be talking," Chloe snapped at him, then looked back to 2Vile. "You, we need to have a conversation right now."

"That's a waste of time, Detective," Lucifer said. "I've just threatened his life, he's not our guy. He would've said, trust me."

Mercy choked on her own saliva and coughed while putting a hand on the wall to support herself.

"You did what?" Chloe said in disbelief.

"Yeah, isn't that illegal?" 2Vile demanded.

"Uh, little bit, yeah. You stay put," Chloe said to 2Vile before turning to Lucifer. "You, you're coming with me."

"What?" Lucifer frowned at her.

Chloe took out her handcuffs and pushed him around to fasten them on his wrists.

"Ooh," Lucifer said with a sultry smile and chuckle. "With pleasure."

"Back up _is_ on it's way," Chloe told the men as she picked up the bucket of guns. "So don't get any ideas." She gripped Lucifer's arm with her other hand and escorted him toward Mercy. "You're coming too, come on."

"Well, I don't really have anywhere else to go," Mercy said, turning to follow the Detective. She shot a questioning look at Lucifer, but he just winked at her and smirked. Mercy took that as his way of telling her not to worry.

As they walked out of the building and toward Chloe's car, Lucifer grinned at the Detective.

"At least perhaps now you'll listen to me," he said. "Although, I'm not quite sure why I'm being arrested."

"Because you're interfering with a police investigation," Chloe stated flatly. "You've broken I can't even count how many laws, _and_ you've pissed me off."

She let Lucifer go as she popped the trunk of her car to put the buckets of guns in. She grabbed something else out of it, and when she closed it and walked back over to them, Mercy saw it was a second set of cuffs.

"Turn around," Chloe ordered Mercy.

"What, why?" Mercy asked.

"Seriously?" Chloe scoffed. "You've been at his side for this entire thing."

"Not the life-threatening part," Mercy argued, pointing back to the building.

"Save yourself the time, Detective," Lucifer said. "I can get out of these, you know, and then I'll just get Mercy out of hers."

"Funny," Chloe said.

Lucifer smiled and took his hands out from behind his back to reveal he had indeed gotten out of the cuffs and was holding them in one hand out for Chloe.

The Detective gaped at them for a moment before grabbing them. "How'd you do that?"

Lucifer sighed. "Come on, we're wasting time. We should be out there solving a homicide and punishing those responsible."

"'We?'" Chloe repeated incredulously. "You're insane. I'm taking you both in. Get in the car." She opened the back seat and gestured to it.

"No, that's boring," Lucifer protested. "Not to mention pointless. Come on, we'll help you." He wrapped an arm around Mercy and pulled her toward him while smiling at Chloe. "It'll be fun."

Mercy glanced up at him in slight irritation. "What am I, a prop?"

"How could you possibly help me?" Chloe asked before Lucifer could answer.

"I have a certain skill set," Lucifer explained. "I can be very persuasive with people and tend to see things that others cannot."

"So, you're psychic or something?" Chloe raised a brow, unimpressed.

"No, I can't read people's minds," Lucifer huffed. "I'm not a Jedi. People just like to tell me things."

"Hmm, just-just tell you things?" Chloe said, her expression set in one of irate disbelief. "Just confess their sins, just like that."

"No, not their _sins,_" Lucifer groaned. "I have no power over people's sins. I actually get a bad rap for that. I have the ability to draw out people's forbidden desires. The more simple the human, the easier it is, the more complex, the more challenging and exciting, really..."

Lucifer looked over at Mercy and grinned at her wickedly. Mercy rolled her eyes at him and wriggled out from under his arm. He let her, and put his hands in his pockets instead, chuckling before looking back to Chloe.

"But no, the actual sins, the sins are on you people," Lucifer said.

"You people?" Chloe echoed then nodded, pursing her lips. "I got it. I got it! The name? The whole Lucifer thing? And desire's, like, your superpower."

"Mm, it's more of a gift from God, really," Lucifer said.

"I've seen him do it," Mercy said. "It's... kinda unnerving."

"Okay, look," Lucifer readjusted himself then stared intently into the Detective's eyes. "What do you desire more than anything else in this life?"

Chloe blinked up at him in underwhelmed bleakness. "This is it? This is your big trick?"

Lucifer continued to stare at her, slowly smiling. Chloe's expression began to grow slack. She let out a long sigh.

"I always wanted to be able to choose my own future," she breathed. "I wanted to decide for myself what I wanted, and I want to be able to do something that helps people and ends corruption, corruption like what killed my dad."

Chloe began to blink rapidly and stepped backward, shaking her head. She stared at Lucifer, confused.

"What did you do?" she demanded.

Lucifer grinned widely. "I told you."

"What-what is that, some kind of hypnosis?" Chloe pressed. "That doesn't make any sense."

Hypnosis doesn't work," Mercy said. "It's like a placebo. It only does something if you believe it will."

Chloe shot her a glare and Mercy cleared her throat and shrugged.

"Sorry, I'll shut up now," she muttered.

Chloe shook her head and took a breath to seemingly collect herself. She gestured to the car.

"All right, well, weird staring crap or not, we're still going," she said.

"Wait!" Lucifer said. "I know something you don't."

"Really?" Chloe sighed, clearly irritated now. "What's that?"

"Won't say unless you take us with you on this," Lucifer said smugly.

Chloe groaned and leaned on the car's roof. Mercy suppressed a chuckle. Lucifer's wild personality was difficult for _her_ to handle; she couldn't imagine what it was like for people that were susceptible to his abilities.

"Please, come on," Lucifer urged. "I got to 2Vile, didn't I?"

"Why do you care about this so much?" Chloe asked. "About Delilah?"

Mercy glanced toward Lucifer. She'd been wondering the same thing, actually. For the Devil to be so intent on the death of some human just seemed off. But then again, he had proved time and time again that he wasn't what everyone made him out to be.

"Look, I just... I just do," Lucifer said with a somber gleam in his dark eyes. "If I hadn't meddled with her career, maybe she wouldn't have died."

Mercy's heart gave a thud in her chest at the brief glint of pain in Lucifer's eyes. She pursed her lips, tempted to put a hand on his shoulder, but she stayed back, unsure of how he'd react.

"Okay," Chloe said. "Clearly you... might come in handy. But two civilians coming along on a homicide investigation is something I don't think I can do." She glanced to Mercy.

"What? No, no, no," Lucifer said. "Mercy needs to stay with me."

"Why?" Chloe asked. "Does she have a superpower too?"

"In a sense," Lucifer replied. "We're still trying to figure it all out, and the only way I can do that is if she's with me."

Chloe looked between the two of them, her brow furrowed. "What is it with you two? Are you together or something?"

"No," Mercy said. "Luci—er, Lucifer is, uh... my landlord and boss, I guess. My band plays regularly at Lux and I rent a space there."

"And what's this thing you're trying to figure out?" Chloe queried.

"Why she's immune to me," Lucifer answered simply.

Chloe blinked in mild surprise. "Immune?"

Lucifer nodded. "Little Mercy here isn't affected by any sort of divine power. It's quite fascinating."

Mercy cast Lucifer a quizzical look, wondering just how much he planned on telling the Detective.

"I-I don't think I've met stranger people in my life," Chloe said, shaking her head. "That isn't much of a reason for me to bring her with."

"She's proven quite resourceful," Lucifer insisted. "And, I'm afraid it's part of the deal. I'll share my lead, if you let us tag along."

"Do you even _want_ to come with?" Chloe asked, turning to Mercy. "This is dangerous."

Mercy sighed softly. Chloe knew there was something off about Lucifer, but she had no idea about the truth. Mercy wasn't about to say that chasing a killer was safer than going back to Lux and potentially being found by an angel that would most likely find her as a danger to humanity and kill or imprison her.

"Uh, well..." Mercy said. "So far it's been... unforgettable. Guess there's no harm in making more memories."

"Again, strangest people I've ever met," Chloe said. "Fine, fine. But if this little clue thing of yours doesn't pan out, these are going back on and they're going to stay on." Chloe lifted the handcuffs and set a glare on Lucifer.

"Is that a promise?" Lucifer smirked.

* * *

_**A/N::: Just a friendly reminder that Chloe is a normal human in this fic and therefore NOT immune to Lucifer's powers. I saw some reviews stating that they worry about Chloe complicating things; I just wanna assure you, I don't intend on this story being super focused on the police cases. Luci and Mercy will be involved with some of them, but for the most part, it's going to be original content.**_

_**Thanks everyone for all the reviews, favs, and follows! It means so much to me that you guys like this so much already. Excited to show you more!**_

_**-Red**_


	4. Chapter 4

Lucifer and Mercy sat in the back seat of Chloe's car. As she sat in the driver's seat, Chloe looked back at the pair of them expectantly. She wanted the lead Lucifer promised.

"Mm, 2Vile claimed that Delilah was seeing a therapist in Beverly Hills, Linda," Lucifer said. "Apparently, she was sleeping with a wealthy, well-known married man."

"Do you have her last name?" Chloe asked.

"2Vile didn't mention," Lucifer replied.

Chloe sighed and nodded. She put the car in reverse and began to drive. Mercy pulled Lucifer's car keys from her pocket and handed them to him.

"What are we doing about your car?" she asked.

"Oh, I'll have it picked up," Lucifer replied, waving her off as he pocketed the keys.

Mercy shook her head in exasperation. "Such a lavish life."

"Which you now have access to, I'll remind you," Lucifer said.

Chloe pulled out her radio to call into the station. As she did so, Mercy leaned over to Lucifer and whispered, "Just how much are we going to tell the Detective?"

"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked in his normal tone.

Mercy set him in a irritated glare. "I mean, what should I say and what shouldn't I say?"

"Say whatever you like," Lucifer said.

"Yeah, okay, but I don't want to come off as insane," Mercy pressed. "So maybe you should keep some things to yourself?"

"Yeah, therapist in Beverly Hills," Chloe was saying into her radio. "First name Linda. See if Delilah was a client."

"Ah-ah, actually, she had a pseudonym, which I also happen to know," Lucifer cut in, looking forward. "I'm quite good at this, aren't I? Uh, Penny Lane."

"Okay," Chloe said, then into the radio added, "Delilah may have gone by Penny Lane. Thanks."

She holstered the radio, and Mercy nearly groaned. She wanted to have a moment alone with Lucifer so that she could figure out a game plan of sorts when dealing with not only the Detective, but other people in general. Lucifer was smirking toward Chloe, clearly pleased with himself.

"Don't look so smug," Chloe snapped, noticing his stare in her rear-view mirror. "Nothing's panned out yet."

"No, no, no, it's not that," Lucifer said. "It's just that I knew that I recognized you."

"Right," Chloe sighed. "Right, you've seen my boobies. It's exciting. What are you, twelve?"

Mercy snorted in amusement, which earned her a reproachful look from Lucifer. Mercy shrugged innocently.

"She has a point," Mercy told him.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and turned back toward Chloe. "So is the, uh, is the movie why you've got such a chip on your shoulder?"

"Uh, it's low on the list of things I have to live down, I guess," Chloe replied tightly.

"Right," Lucifer said, leaning back in his seat. "Attractive female cop struggling to be taken seriously in a man man's world, that it?"

"Yeah, something like that," Chloe muttered.

"Guys tend to get threatened when a woman is better at them at their job," Mercy said. "I've kinda just learned to relish it."

"Yes, you're clearly smart and have notable instincts," Lucifer agreed. "Ignore them. Trust yourself."

Chloe's eyes flicked up to look at him in the rear view mirror briefly, but before she could speak, her cell phone began to ring.

"Detective Decker," she answered. After listening for a moment, she said, "All right, text it to me. Thanks."

"What's that?" Lucifer asked as she hung up.

Chloe sighed with mild disappointment. "What you were saying stands up. There's a Penny Lane who sees a Dr. Linda Martin in Beverly Hills."

"Excellent," Lucifer chimed. "I'll clear my schedule."

Mercy rolled her eyes at him; as if he had anything else planned today. He merely grinned at her. Then, he looked at her bandaged arm and frowned a bit.

"How is that doing, by the way? You're not in pain, are you?" he asked.

A little touched that he was concerned, Mercy shrugged. "No, not really. Not... not at all, actually."

She frowned. Mercy had taken some pain killers in the morning, but they would have worn off by now. Before she could think more on it, Chloe's cell rang again.

"Ooh, someone's popular," Lucifer teased.

"Please stop talking," Chloe said to him before answering. "Hello. What? You're kidding me... Is she okay? ...Oh, of course he's not there. Thanks." She hung up and sighed heavily. "We got to make a pit stop."

"What?" Lucifer said. "No, absolutely not."

"My kid got into a fight," Chloe snapped. "I got to pick her up."

"What, cant's she get herself home?" Lucifer asked.

"She's _seven,_" Chloe retorted.

"Lucifer," Mercy said when he opened his mouth to argue more. "It's the least we can do since the Detective is being nice enough to not arrest us and let us come along."

Lucifer groaned. "But we're not here to run errands."

"It isn't an errand," Mercy told him sternly.

"At least one of you has some concept of curtesy," Chloe muttered.

A few minutes later, they pulled up outside an elementary school. It seemed to be the end of the school day, as there were several kids walking out with their backpacks and other cars pulling up.

"All right, you two wait here," Chloe said when the three of then got out of the car.

"With pleasure," Lucifer replied sourly. "Despise children."

Chloe sighed and headed into toward the building, shaking her head. Once she was inside the building, Mercy reached up and began to undo the bandages on her arm.

"What're you doing?" Lucifer asked.

"Just checking on it," Mercy murmured. "Not to mention, some new bandages might be..."

She trailed off when she pulled aside the bandage covering the wound. Her heart thumped in her chest as her mind raced in confusion.

"But that..." she rasped. "That's not possible."

"What?" Lucifer stepped to her side and peered at her arm. He blinked rapidly. "It's gone."

It was. Where the wound had been this morning was a thin scar and blood stained around it. It was as if it had healed in fast-forward.

"Interesting," Lucifer breathed, his eyes widening with delighted awe. "Have you always been able to heal so fast?"

"N-no," Mercy stammered, quickly wrapping her arm in the bandages again. "But I haven't been seriously hurt in years... I can't even remember the last time I got a paper cut."

Lucifer was beginning to smile. "More and more curiosities from you," he said. "We have something else to investigate now."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Mercy demanded. "I have like a-a Wolverine Healing Factor or something. That's insane!"

"It's also useful, don't you think?" Lucifer said, gesturing to the re-bandaged arm. "I think we should test it some more."

"Oh, no. Uh-uh no, no, no." Mercy shook her head at him. "We're not stabbing me or-or hurting me to see how fast I heal, Luci. No poking or prodding!"

"You keep using that phrase," Lucifer sighed. "I'm starting to think you're trying to get a rise out of me."

"Ugh, no. Why is everything an innuendo with you?" Mercy groaned.

Lucifer was looking toward the school and his lips caught a smile while his brows bounced. "Speaking of..." he murmured, then walked purposefully across the street toward the entrance.

"What're you...?" Mercy said weakly, then noticed a very attractive blonde woman heading inside the building—old enough to be a parent or a teacher.

Giving a small groan, Mercy quickly trotted after the Devil, not wanting to leave him alone to cause trouble.

Since it was just when school was released, kids and parents alike were coming and going through the doors, so Lucifer and Mercy didn't look out of the ordinary. Once inside the main hall, Lucifer paused and looked around, presumably for the hot mom he spotted.

"Lucifer!" Mercy hissed when she stopped at his side. "We're supposed to wait by the car."

Lucifer only gave a small breath of disappointment. Seemed he lost track of the blonde.

"Lucifer," Mercy repeated.

"Oh, come on," Lucifer said, sitting down on a bench that sat up against the wall. "I have needs and you aren't willing to fill them."

Mercy rolled her eyes as she sat down next to him. On Lucifer's other side was a small girl with tanned skin and dark hair. She eyed the two of them with curiosity and confusion. Mercy offered her a slightly awkward wave and the girl smiled and waved back in response.

Lucifer, meanwhile, pulled out a Zippo lighter and a cigarette. As he lit the lighter, the little girl spoke up before Mercy could.

"I don't think you're allowed to smoke in here," she said. She carried a slight lisp, most likely because her front two teeth were missing.

"Oh, dear, what will become of me?" Lucifer replied dully, bringing the flame closer to his cigarette.

"My mother is a police officer," the little girl declared. "She could arrest you."

Lucifer snapped his lighter shut and exchanged a look with Mercy before turning back to the girl.

"Oh, I think we might know your mother," he said.

"What's you name?" the girl asked with a small sigh, as if she were the adult scolding Lucifer as a child.

"Lucifer," he replied.

The girl's eyes stretched wide. "Like the Devil?" she whispered.

"Exactly," Lucifer said. "This is Mercy." He thumbed toward Mercy. "Like the stupid concept."

"Ha ha," Mercy muttered sarcastically.

"My name's Beatrice, but everyone calls me Trixie," the girl said.

"That's a hooker's name," Lucifer said bluntly.

Mercy smacked his arm, earning her a reproachful look.

"What's a hooker?" Trixie asked with a frown.

"Ask your mother," Lucifer replied, rubbing his arm.

"Lucifer, honestly," Mercy said. "Remind me to keep you away from kids."

"It's a bad thing, isn't it?" Trixie said with a sudden look of horror.

"No-no-no!" Mercy said quickly. "Well, the word is... okay, look, I think Trixie is an adorable name, suiting such an adorable girl. Don't worry about what Lucifer said."

Trixie didn't look completely convinced, but she seemed to calm a little bit.

"So, why are you in trouble?" Lucifer asked her, mercifully changing the subject.

"See that girl over there?" Trixie turned to face a little down the hall where a girl her age but notably taller and broader, was sitting on a bench, brooding. "She was bullying me. She created a fake Snapchat account and used it to make fun of me. So I kicked her in the no-no-touch-touch square."

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Oh, I see. Well played. Well played, indeed."

Abruptly, he got up and began to walk toward the other girl.

"Oh no," Mercy said, quickly going after him. "Lucifer—Lucifer, wait."

Lucifer had already reached his destination and he smiled wickedly. "Hello, mean girl," he said. "Did you know there's a special section of Hell reserved for bullies?"

The girl glared up at him defiantly, but then her eyes widened with sudden terror.

"So have fun," Lucifer snarled.

There was something... different about his voice in that moment. It was gritty, ethereal. The girl let out a shriek and quickly ran away down the hall. Lucifer straightened up and turned to smile victoriously at Mercy.

Before Mercy could berate him for possibly permanently scarring a child for life, Chloe's voice came from behind her.

"What did you do?"

Turning around, Mercy saw Chloe and Trixie walking toward them.

"Oh, I just think someone's feeling a little guilty," Lucifer said calmly.

Trixie beamed up at him, clearly impressed. Chloe sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Let's just get going, all right?" she said.

As they headed out of the school, Mercy gripped her bandaged arm and furrowed her brow. First this bizarre immunity to angelic power and now superhuman healing? What was happening to her? None of it made any sense. She hoped that Lucifer didn't end up telling Chloe about it. Mercy couldn't be certain that their new Detective companion wouldn't report this oddity to authorities who _would_ poke and prod her.

When they reached the sidewalk, a man in his thirties walked toward them. He had tanned skin and dark brown hair swept back from his face. His sharp blue eyes were rather prominent, but seemed slightly sunken. His high cheekbones made his features even more pronounced. He smiled at Trixie as he approached.

"Hi, Daddy," the girl greeted happily.

"Hi, munchkin," the man replied. Mercy noticed he had a badge and gun holder on his belt. Seemed he was a cop too.

"Wow, shocker, you're late," Chloe said tightly.

"Come on, give me a break," the man sighed. "I'm putting a case to bed."

"Did you make sure to tuck it in and read it a story?" Mercy said before she could stop herself.

Chloe and the man both shot her a look while Lucifer snorted and Trixie giggled slightly.

"Sorry," Mercy said, waving awkwardly and taking a step back and slightly behind Lucifer.

Chloe turned back toward the man. "Well, it's not like I'm working a case too. Oh, yeah, the one you tried to steal from me."

"You mean the open and shut one," the man retorted.

"I'm being diligent, Dan. It's a high profile case," Chloe argued.

"Which is why you need to be smart about it," Dan said.

"She _is_ smart," Lucifer cut in. "You're the dimwit. Perhaps you should refrain from arguing in front of the child, it's unbecoming."

Mercy looked over to see Trixie had covered her ears.

Dan set his gaze on Lucifer. "I don't know whether to laugh or shoot you."

"I'd go with the whole, not fighting in front of the kid thing," Mercy said.

"Or you could shoot me," Lucifer added. "See how that turns out."

"Isn't he funny, Daddy?" Trixie said. She had uncovered her ears when she noticed Mercy and Lucifer looking at her.

Dan pursed his lips. He didn't want to agree or deny what his daughter said, apparently.

"Hey, can you, uh, drop Trix off at my mom's?" Chloe asked. "We got to go."

Dan nodded at her, his expression relaxing somewhat.

"Thank you," Chloe told him sincerely. "Trixella, give Mommy a kiss."

The Detective kneeled down and Trixie ran over to kiss her cheek. Chloe hugged the girl tightly.

"I love you so much," she said. "Good job standing up to the mean girl."

"Thanks, Mommy," Trixie said as she was released. "What's a hooker?"

Chloe's face fell and she cleared her throat awkwardly. "Daddy will tell you."

Dan looked like he'd been shot and it took everything Mercy had not to laugh.

"Bye Lucifer, bye Mercy!" Trixie called, waving at them as she walked away with her hand in Dan's. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too," Mercy said with a tiny wave as Lucifer grimaced.

"Hmm," Chloe said with a small frown. "I think she likes the two of you."

"Of course she does, what's not to like?" Lucifer asked indignantly.

They got back into the car and continued their drive to Beverly Hills. Lucifer leaned back in his seat with a pensive expression.

"Was your offspring planned or a mistake?" Lucifer asked.

"Wow, what a tactful way to phrase that," Mercy said.

"Planned," Chloe answered. "Sort of."

"Really?" Lucifer glanced out the window. "'Cause I've never understood the human desire to procreate."

"That's probably a good thing," Chloe said.

All Mercy could think of was Rosemary's Baby and briefly wondered about the lore behind that side of things.

"I mean, children are hideous little creatures, terrible, taxing burdens," Lucifer went on.

"Mmm," was Chloe's only response.

"I'd smack him for you, but it doesn't seem to do much," Mercy said. "Think he likes it actually."

Chloe let out a tiny exhale of amusement. "It's fine, strangely, I'm getting slightly used to it."

"Well, yours is fine," Lucifer said defensively. "I mean, you know, nothing to crow about, but nothing to be too embarrassed about either, so that's quite good, isn't it?"

"Are you at all aware of how dickish you sound?" Chloe demanded.

"No," Lucifer replied honestly. "Speaking of dicks, why was that ex-husband of yours pressuring you to close the case?"

"No reason," Chloe replied.

Lucifer leaned forward, eyeing her in the rearview mirror. "Come on, Detective, you can tell me."

Chloe was staring back at him for a moment before shaking her head. "Can-can you _not_ do that while I'm driving?"

"Then just answer the question." Lucifer smiled.

Chloe sighed heavily. "I... I ruffled a lot of feathers recently. On Palmetto Street, there's this old warehouse. I followed one of our other Detectives there because I had a hunch and a lot of strange circumstantial crap saying that he was crooked."

"Like a corrupt cop? Getting drugs or something?" Mercy asked.

"Something, yeah," Chloe said. "Anyway, I... I saw an exchange go down. The Detective, Malcom Graham's his name, spotted me. I ducked down, preparing to run or shoot, but then there was gunfire before I could do anything else. When I looked up, all three men that had been in the warehouse were on the ground. Malcom's the only one who made it out alive, but he... he's in a coma."

"And you aren't dropping the investigation," Mercy assumed. "So the precinct is pissed."

Chloe shrugged. "To put it lightly. I think there was a fourth person there, but I can't figure it out. I'm not going to be dropping it until I do."

"That's actually pretty admirable," Mercy said. "I mean, think about it, if he is guilty, he needs to be brought to justice, right? Coma or no coma. And if he's innocent, well, just say you're being thorough..." She gave a long breath and looked out her window. "Not a lot of cops would have the courage to do what you are."

Chloe blinked a few times. "Thank you," she finally said in a soft voice. "That actually means a lot to me, Mercy."

"See, now this is where she comes in handy," Lucifer said, pointing at Mercy. "She can do all the emotional bits. I have a bit of a block there."

"It's because your empathy seems to be a bit broken," Mercy told him.

Lucifer shrugged. "Why worry about other people's rubbish when I have plenty of my own?"

His voice went a bit dark for a moment, and Mercy pursed her lips. She wasn't certain exactly what Lucifer's full story was. All she had to go on was all the different religious lore about him, and she already found most of it was wrong. Mercy almost chuckled to herself. Lucifer was so interested in finding out about her, and now she was falling into the same line of thinking about him. Maybe they could do a trade sometime.

However, for now, she had to try and act like everything in her life was normal even though it was far from.

* * *

When they reached Linda Martin's building and sat outside her office, Mercy wanted to pace or jog or jumping jacks—anything to keep her moving and her mind off the fresh scar on her arm. She sat in a chair beside Lucifer, her knee bouncing away as she opened and closed her flip phone over and over.

"Okay, enough, give me that," Chloe said, snatching the cell out of her hand.

"Hey," Mercy protested.

"You can only have it back if you stop making so much noise with it," Chloe scolded. Mercy could really see the mother side of her right then.

"Seems our Little Angel isn't one for idling," Lucifer said from where he sat beside her.

Chloe, who had elected to stand, raised a brow expectantly at Mercy.

"Fine, sorry," Mercy said. "Waiting rooms just get to me. There's so stuffy and quiet."

Chloe handed her back the cell and Mercy leaned back in her seat.

Mercy pursed his lips briefly before asking, "So, what info are you hoping to get from this chick?"

"The name of the man Delilah was having an affair with," Chloe said.

"Okay, but doctor-patient confidentiality," Mercy pointed out. "She can't legally tell you anything, even if Delilah's dead. She could lose her license to practice."

"I know," Chloe muttered, glaring at the far wall and folding her arms. "But it's the only lead we have, so we have to try. If it can help us find Delilah's killer, then..."

She trailed off, leaving the room in that awkward silence Mercy hated so much. Glancing down at her phone, she slowly flipped it open. Lucifer saw her do it and seemed amused. He smiled at her knowingly and Mercy grinned back before snapping the phone closed again.

"I will break that thing," Chloe vowed, whirling to face her again.

Lucifer was chuckling as Mercy giggled softly.

"Sorry, sorry," she said.

The door on the other side of the room suddenly opened. A middle-aged blonde woman with a slightly curvy figure and cat-framed glasses stood in the doorway. She was dressed in a professional button down shirt with a pencil skirt and dark pantyhose. Her lips were rather thin, but it worked for her face, which was attractive in an adorable sense.

"Okay, Detectives, I'll see you now," she said. Mercy assumed this was Linda Martin.

"Thank you," Chloe said.

The three of them headed into the office. It was fairly large with an arm chair in the center facing a couch and another armchair against the wall. Behind the central chair was a desk facing the window of the left side of the room and a bookcase laden with books and knick knacks on the back wall.

Linda sat in the central chair, grabbing a clipboard and pen from the small table beside it. Chloe and Lucifer sat on the couch while Mercy elected to take the chair to Lucifer's right rather than squeeze on with them.

"Dr. Martin, I'd like to ask you a few questions about Delilah," Chloe said.

However, it didn't seem Linda was paying attention to Chloe. The doctor's eyes were hovering over Lucifer, taking in his whole form with a hint of hunger in her expression. Lucifer noticed right away and smiled at her.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" he said. "Yes, I wouldn't recommend it. I'm like walking heroin. Very habit-forming. It never ends well."

Chloe blinked and looked between the two of them. "I'm sorry, do-do you two know each other?"

"No, no, but I know that look," Lucifer said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Linda defended, sitting up straighter in her seat.

Mercy sighed heavily. Chloe, still confused, looked back at Lucifer and the blinked a few times, as if something was registering with her. Abruptly, she looked away, her cheeks growing red.

"All right, what the hell...?" she whispered.

Lucifer chuckled. "Do you get it now?"

Mercy remembered Miles' embarrassing first night performing in Lux. She cleared her throat and got to her feet, gesturing to her chair.

"Uh, Detective, would you rather sit here?"

"Yes," Chloe said quickly as she got to her feet.

Mercy went over to where Chloe had been and plopped down next to Lucifer. She cast him a sour look.

"Luci, can you _not_ do this while we're trying to solve a murder with a Detective that is barely letting us come along instead of arresting us?" she said.

"I can't help it!" Lucifer defended. "That's just it with most women—that-that carnal fascination. I tend to appeal to the dark, mischievous hearts in all of you."

Mercy perked a brow at him.

"All, except you," Lucifer sighed in slight defeat. "Why is it that the one person who's immune to my charms is ridiculously..." He trailed off and eyes Mercy as if searching for something. "...you?"

"Ridiculously _me?_" Mercy echoed.

"Well, why couldn't you be some 300 pound man with no ambition or personality?" Lucifer said. "No, you have to be... _you._"

"I think we're getting way off topic here," Chloe said. "I-I'm sorry, Dr. Martin."

Despite what she said, Chloe kept casting looks back at Lucifer, searching looks. It was just like the bride at the wedding.

"Apologies," Lucifer sighed, looking up at Linda. "Now, tell me, Linda—"

"It disturbs you, doesn't it?" Linda suddenly said, looking between Lucifer and Mercy. "That she's... different. Yet at the same time, you're fascinated."

Lucifer blinked at her and seemed at a loss for words. Mercy cleared her throat nervously and leaned forward a bit in her seat.

"Now, now, this isn't a therapy session for us," Mercy said with a small chuckle. "Uh, Detective... your questions?"

"Right." Chloe dragged her eyes off Lucifer and squirmed a bit in her chair. "Dr. Martin, we know that, um, Delilah was having a clandestine affair with a wealthy married man, so if you could just tell us his name, we will be on our way."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," Linda said.

Mercy shot Chloe an _I told you so_ look, at which Chloe glared.

"Oh, she's one of the complex ones," Lucifer said, eagerly sitting forward. "Linda, darling, why don't you tell me? Hmm?"

Linda blinked rapidly at him. "Well, I can't."

Lucifer chuckled, continuing to stare at her. Linda giggled as well, clearly perplexed by Lucifer's persuasive power.

"I want to, but I can't," she insisted. Lucifer smiled widely at her and Linda shifted in her seat and shook her head at him, still laughing nervously. "Oh, you're the devil."

"Correct," Lucifer replied. "Now, come on, Dr. Martin. I know you want to."

"Oh, man, and it's really, really juicy, too," Linda groaned.

"Ooh, I bet it is," Lucifer purred.

"No, I can't," Linda persisted, but she was still smiling and giggling.

"What did you do to her?" Chloe asked. "Did you roofie her?"

"Oh, no, it's not her fault," Lucifer said. "She's just reacting to me. Every does in different ways, depends on the person. Even you, my blushing Detective."

Chloe instantly adverted her gaze from him.

Lucifer chuckled deviously and faced Linda again. "Watch and learn, okay? Right, the answer is yes, we can take a trip to pound town if we must, but first, you're gonna have to tell us, Linda, okay?"

Linda squirmed a bit more, her eyes now a mixture of eagerness and reluctancy. Mercy was once again pleased that Lucifer couldn't affect her this way.

"Um..." Linda groaned, gripping the edge of her seat cushion. "Um, okay." She laughed again, and after taking a deep breath said, "It's Grey Cooper."

"Grey Cooper?" Chloe exclaimed. " Seriously? That is juicy."

"Grey Cooper, the actor?" Lucifer asked. "The one who's married to Amanda what's-her-chops?"

"Yeah, yeah," Linda said.

"The action movie dude?" Mercy wrinkled her nose. "The one that has to be in films with at least three high speed car chases and five gun shootouts?"

"Oh, no, he's horrible," Lucifer said. "So squared-jawed, so handsome, so vanilla. Oh, I'm really quite disappointed in Delilah. That's truly terrible taste in the opposite sex."

"I wouldn't call him handsome," Mercy said.

"You wouldn't?" Lucifer glanced at her.

"No, he's not anywhere near my type," Mercy replied. "And squared-jawed is right—90% of his face is jaw."

Lucifer snorted in amusement.

"Thank you very much, Dr. Martin," Chloe said, getting to her feet. "We'll be in touch. All right, we got to go."

"Yeah, of course, but I-I made a deal," Lucifer said, pointing toward Linda. "So I'm gonna have to hold up my end of the bargain. You two wouldn't mind waiting outside?"

"Oh my hell," Mercy breathed, getting to her feet and walking toward the door.

"Are you seriously talking about having _sex_ with her right now?" Chloe hissed.

"Well, it won't take long," Lucifer said.

"I do yoga," Linda suddenly declared. When all three of them looked back at her, her eyes were only for Lucifer. "_Hot _yoga. I'm freakishly flexible. Want to see?" She gripped her foot and stretched out her leg, but it wasn't much past just being able to touch one's toes. "Wow!" she exclaimed, dropping her leg and shaking her head. "I really tried to keep that one in."

"Well, you tried, that's what matters," Lucifer said. "Uh, look, I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna have to take a rain check. I will be back, okay?"

"I certainly hope so," Linda murmured.

"My word is my bond," Lucifer assured with a smile.

As the three of them stepped out of the office building and made their way across the parking lot, Chloe shook her head.

"This is insane," she muttered under her breath.

"What?" Lucifer asked innocently.

"You!" Chloe snapped at him. "You, just... what are you?"

"It's in the name, sweetheart," Lucifer replied.

"You're saying you're _actually_ the Devil?" Chloe said.

"Do we really wanna go down this road right now?" Mercy asked. "I mean, killer to catch—remember that?"

"And-and you—" Chloe stopped beside the cop car and turned toward Mercy. "None of his... his weird hypnosis crap has ever worked on you?"

"No," Mercy said before looking at Lucifer. "Can you maybe just turn it off for her? I think you're gonna break her."

"I can refrain from amplifying my gifts, but I'm afraid most people just... react to me," Lucifer said. "Though, luckily the Detective is mildly complex. Particularly in the sexual region of my allure."

"Oh my God," Chloe groaned, putting a hand over her eyes.

"Ugh, why do you have to bring _Him_ into this?" Lucifer complained.

"Okay, okay, uh, Detective?" Mercy looked to her. "How about we worry about all the, uh, Devil stuff, _after_ the case is settled?"

Chloe lowered her hand and looked between Mercy and Lucifer and let out a sharp breath through her nose.

"Fine," she said. "Fine, I'll try to just... ignore this insanity for now. But I do want answers."

"You'll get them," Lucifer assured.

"And you," Mercy lowered her voice to a sharp whisper as Chloe got into the car, "stop putting more crap in her head to ask about. I don't want the guy who doesn't lie to be asked about me in particular, okay? I don't think my Healing Factor would go over well."

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, remember?" Lucifer said. "I gave you my word, I will protect you from all forms of harm."

"Guys?" Chloe leaned out of her seat. "What's going on? Let's go."

"Sorry," Mercy said, and she and Lucifer hopped into the back of the car.


	5. Chapter 5

Mercy had never been on a Hollywood set, and she never expected to be, especially chasing after Lucifer as he casually strode toward derelict-looking buildings as a car drove down the set's street at him. It flipped over and slid across the concrete, making Mercy and Chloe scramble to a halt while Lucifer just kept walking. The car stopped a mere foot from him.

"He's insane," Chloe said.

"No, just immortal," Mercy replied before trotting to Lucifer's side.

It was only just then that the filming crew was able to react. Mercy assumed they were all shocked to silence seeing a guy just waltz out in front of a crashing car, staged or no.

"Cut!" the director cried from his seat. "Who the hell is this guy? What the hell are you doing?"

Security guards were beginning to circle in, but Chloe quickly came forward with her badge at the ready.

"Excuse me," she called, lifting it high for all to see. "Sorry, he's with me. She is too." She pointed at Mercy.

"Have you seriously be acting this recklessly for the past five years?" Mercy demanded.

"Is it reckless if you can't die?" Lucifer asked with an innocent shrug.

Mercy gave an exasperated groan.

Lucifer turned his attention to the wrecked car as a man climbed out of it. He was square-jawed and blonde, like Mercy knew Grey Cooper to be, but it wasn't him.

"That's not Grey Cooper," Lucifer stated, as if in complaint.

"No, of course not," the director snapped as he stormed toward them. "What the hell is this?"

"We need to speak with Mr. Cooper," Chloe said, flashing her badge again.

The director sighed and walked off. "Find Grey so we can get on with the shoot."

After about ten minutes, the actual Grey Cooper walked over to them. He was dressed the same as his stunt double—worn jeans, button up shirt with a vest over it, covered in makeup that made it look like he survived a fire.

"God, Delilah, yeah, heard about that this morning," he said in response to Chloe's introduction. "I can't believe it. We did a movie together last year. Got pretty close."

"Lovers?" Lucifer said with a smirk.

"Friends," Grey corrected.

"Friends who were lovers?" Lucifer pressed.

"Settle down," Chloe snapped at him. "I'll handle the questions. Mr. Cooper, when did you last have contact with Delilah?"

"Well, actually, I just have one more question before you proceed," Lucifer said, stepping a little closer to Grey and fixating his dark eyes on him.

"Oh, hell, here we go," Mercy muttered under her breath.

"Tell me, Mr. Cooper, what do you want more than anything in this world?" Lucifer asked, ignoring her. "What's your deepest, darkest desire? You close your eyes, what do you see?"

Grey's expression grew confused then lax. He exhaled a long breath then said, "I'm the president of the United States of America."

"Ha!" Lucifer exclaimed. "Well, who's the Devil now, eh?" He elbowed Mercy, who just rolled her eyes at him.

"Those are some pretty big aspirations there, Mr. Cooper," Chloe said, easily going along with it.

Grey chuckled nervously. "Well, after the acting and stuff."

"No need to be embarrassed," Chloe said. "Hell, if Arnold can do it, right?"

Mercy cast the Detective an admirable look. She was pretty good at adapting to Lucifer's tricks, Mercy had to give her that.

"Now, you wouldn't want any nasty secrets screwing that up for you, though, would you?" Chloe added with a small smile.

"Is there a point to this?" Grey asked.

"Mr. Cooper, were you having an affair with Delilah?" Chloe asked.

Grey's eyes widened, but before he could reply, a female voice called out from across the set.

"Honey!"

They all turned to see an attractive woman with brown hair heading toward them. She wore a tight, low cut tank top that made Mercy glance down at her next-to-flat chest and pluck at her graphic tee awkwardly.

"Have you been getting my texts?" she said as she reached Grey's side. This must be his wife, Amanda. "I thought they were breaking you for lunch like a half hour ago. What's going on?" She looked at Chloe, Lucifer, and Mercy with a frown.

"These people are detectives," Grey explained with a hint of nerves in his voice.

"Real ones?" Amanda said, surprised.

"We have some questions about Delilah," Chloe said.

"Oh," Amanda said, putting a hand to her collarbone. "Oh. Yes, it's so sad. Yeah. Very sad."

Mercy let out a small exhale through her nose. She didn't want anything to do with this whole small talk and proper expressions of grief. Oddly, there was something inside of her starting to grow. Mercy always had this side of her—a side that only her close friends saw and knew about—one that teased and sassed and joked and even pranked. She had never been that way with strangers, but after meeting Lucifer, after discovering that she was far from normal, after laying low for four years...

Something snapped.

"Okay." Mercy took a step forward and clapped her hands. She glanced at Chloe. "Mind if I take a swing?"

Chloe blinked in confusion, but after a moment she gestured to Grey. "All right..."

Even Lucifer seemed shocked by Mercy's sudden show of enthusiasm. He frowned at her as she set her eyes on the actor.

Mercy smiled at Grey. "Hey. Hi. I'm Mercy." She pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and in the action, she spotted Grey's wrist. "Can I ask where you got that watch?"

"Oh..." Grey looked down at his pricy-looking gold watch. "It's a prop."

"No, that's the one Delilah gave you, isn't it?" Amanda asked. "For Time Will Tell?"

"Right." Grey nodded, as if suddenly remembering. "That's the movie we did. It was a wrap gift."

"Uh huh..." Mercy looked at the watch then back up at Grey. "I'm going to let you in on something, you ready?"

Grey eyed her apprehensively. Chloe cast Lucifer a questioning glance at which he shrugged. Mercy smiled and folded her arms.

"Delilah and I started working on a collaboration album a few months ago," Mercy said. "See, I'm in a band, and we wanted to do a few songs together. We kinda grew close in that time."

Mercy dropped her arms to her sides and stepped closer, leaning toward Grey and he began to look more and more nervous.

"Do you want to know what she told me about you?" Mercy asked in a low tone and a wicked smirk. "Do you want me to say it very, _very_ loudly right here in front of your wife and your movie crew?"

Grey's face lost its color. "N-no."

"Yeah." Mercy stepped back, letting out a long breath. "I didn't think so. After all, if you want to president, you can't be this horrendous at lying while having some scandals still in your closet."

Grey looked between Mercy and his wife, his brow beading with sweat.

"So, instead of me sharing every dirty secret, how about you just answer one question for me," Mercy said. "Were you sleeping with her?"

Grey's face twisted up in reluctance. Lucifer came to Mercy's side, smiling at him.

"Go on, just the one question, Mr. Cooper," he said. "Lovers?"

Grey's face relaxed a bit under Lucifer's gaze. "Oh, yeah," he finally said, grinning as if saying the words gave him relief. Then he blinked rapidly and pursed his lips. "Crap. I said that in front of people."

"Whatever," Amanda sighed. "It's not like I didn't know. God, you _are_ a terrible liar."

"You knew?" Grey exclaimed, staring at her.

"Of course," Amanda said. "Why else do you think I've been sleeping with Bobby?"

Behind Grey, his handsome blond bodyguard widened his eyes and tensed up. Grey shot an astonished look back at him.

"Oh, yeah," Amanda said. "And it is good. Mm, I climb that man like a tree. Right, Bobby?"

Bobby looked like he wanted to bolt right then and there.

"My bodyguard?" Grey shouted. "What a cliche."

"Oh boy," Lucifer said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, I'm a cliche?!" Amanda retorted. "Well, you're a dick!"

Grey turned and sprinted at Bobby. Before his bodyguard could react, Grey punched him across the jaw.

"Hey, guys," Chloe called. "Come on!"

Bobby was now retaliating, and the two were locked in a messy brawl. Luckily, the security was rushing in to break it up. Chloe, exasperated, just pointed at them.

"Arrest them," she said. "Seriously?" She gave a grunt of irritation. "One of them's got to be guilty."

As Grey, Bobby, and Amanda were all hauled off in cuffs, Chloe turned to Mercy.

"You were friends with Delilah? Why didn't you say?" she demanded.

"No, no," Mercy waved her off. "I only met her the... the same day she died, actually. Lucifer introduced us so we might do a show together at Lux. I just... exaggerated it a small bit."

"A small bit?" Lucifer repeated. "That was astounding. You have an incredible gift in bluffing. We should take you to Vegas."

"Ew, no, that's the armpit of the world," Mercy replied.

Chloe eyed Mercy for a moment longer before shaking her head. "Well, what works, works, I guess. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Chloe ended up dropping them off at Lux while she went to the station to help question Grey and Amanda. Lucifer tried to talk his way into having them come into the station to help, but Mercy saved Chloe from dealing with the Devil's persuasion.

"Let's let her do this bit and take a break," she told him. "Besides, we need to discuss tomorrow's show, right?"

They didn't play til Friday and it was Tuesday, so Lucifer understood what Mercy was getting at. So when they returned to Lux, they went into Mercy's apartment.

It was a spacious one, with a large living room attached to the kitchen complete with a counter island and small bar. There were two bedrooms, but Mercy used one as her instrument room. Originally, the larger one was where her provided king size bed was, but she moved it into the small one, as well as all the other furniture. What didn't fit in there, she moved to the living room.

Lucifer glanced around as he stepped inside. This was the first time he'd been inside since he showed it to Mercy for the first time. Mercy hadn't been comfortable bringing him in here, but she didn't want to talk in the main club floor and there was no way she was going to up to Lucifer's penthouse. She wanted to be on her own turf, even if she was renting said turf from the Devil.

"Okay, so murder case aside, I'm freaking out," Mercy said, walking over to her couch and plopping down.

Lucifer was looking down the hall and then around the living area. "You've rearranged."

"Yeah, course I did," Mercy said, putting a hand over her eyes. "Can we focus?"

Lucifer was walking down the hall and glancing in the rooms. "Why did you move to sleeping in the small room?"

"Oh my hell," Mercy rasped before getting back up. "Because my music needs more room than I do. Lucifer."

Mercy walked after him just in time to see him step into her music room. Following him inside, she saw him looking around in mild awe. Mercy had placed soundproofing along the walls and in the corner there was a small stool with a keyboard beside it, along with a desk scattered with papers and music scores. On the other side was a beanbag chair—it was ancient and faded blue with duct tape covering multiple holes. It was one of the only things she'd brought with her when she had to go into hiding. Her guitar was in her sticker-laden case beside it, along with several spiral-bound notebooks beside it.

Lucifer strode over to the keyboard and desk, peering down at all the papers there.

"This is quite extensive, isn't it?" he murmured.

"You really don't understand boundaries do you?" Mercy sighed. "Can we not do this? I'm having a crisis over here, Luci."

Lucifer stared down at one of the papers and put his fingertips on it. "_While so willingly putting on the blindfold, they walk forward without direction. So lost in what they've always been told, they now embrace the deception,_" he read. "Oh, is this about humans?"

"Lucifer!" Mercy put one hand on the doorframe, trying to remind herself that she was talking to the Devil. It wasn't that she was scared of him, she just had to remember that he was used to getting things his way.

He turned to face her, his expression innocent. "What? It's good! I like it."

"Out." Mercy gestured to the hall behind her. "Now."

Lucifer scoffed softly. "Fine, fine, there's no need to be rude about it."

Mercy groaned and leaned back against the frame as he made to walk out. However, rather than enter the hall, Lucifer paused in the doorway. Mercy blinked in surprise when he put his forearm against the frame right over her head and leaned down toward her, his lips mere millimeters from her nose.

"What was that today?" he asked, his near-black eyes searching her face.

Mercy swallowed nervously. She knew that he didn't affect her like he did everyone else, but he was stupidly handsome and carried a certain level of intimidation.

"Wh-what d'you mean?" she stammered.

Lucifer smirked. "Come on, you know. With Grey Cooper, how you stepped forward and so easily bluffed to him."

"I-I dunno," Mercy said. "I mean, he wasn't going to make it easy. I was getting sick of the runaround. So, we already knew for sure he slept with Delilah, why not let him know?"

"I could've gotten him to talk," Lucifer said. "He was an easy one."

"Well, you didn't see the watch, did you?" Mercy replied.

"No." Lucifer continued to search her eyes. "But still... I can't figure you out. You're shy, but you're not. You're spitfire, but then you're reserved."

"Can-can you not do this?" Mercy gestured between the two of them, though she didn't have much room to do so—his chest was inches from hers.

"Why not?" Lucifer's lips curled into a smile. "Does it make you uneasy? Perhaps longing?"

There was that pull to his eyes again, but just like last time, Mercy was only aware of it, not drawn to it. She sighed and steeled herself. Lucifer was clearly someone without boundaries, so she had to be the one to make them.

"I'd knee you in the goods right now if I didn't think it wouldn't do squat," Mercy said, glaring up at him. "How about we go sit on the sofa like normal people?"

"Because that's boring!" Lucifer exclaimed, still with that grin.

"Trust me, discussing my weird ass Healing Factor and your angel brother is rather interesting to me," Mercy said before ducking out from under his arm and into the hall.

Thankfully, Lucifer didn't stop her. That was one thing he had going for him—total lack of tact and boundaries or not, at least he didn't force her into anything.

Mercy and Lucifer sat on the couch in the living room. Wanting some background noise, Mercy picked up the stereo remote and turned on her music—the chill acoustic playlist.

"Mood music?" Lucifer bounced his brows at her.

"I hate silence," Mercy said. "Even if it's between sentences."

She sighed and reached up to take off her bandages on her arm. Beneath was still the same thin scar—the only remains of her wound from yesterday. Lucifer scooted closer to her and paused when he reached up.

"May I?" he asked, eyes flicking to the scar then back to her eyes.

Mercy nodded and Lucifer gently ran his fingers along it. He frowned and his brows furrowed.

"Interesting," he murmured.

"What?" Mercy asked.

"There's... a sensation," Lucifer explained. "The closest thing I can akin it to is when I'm holding something of divinity."

"Something of divinity?" Mercy echoed.

Lucifer nodded. "Divine artifacts. Er, take my wings, for instance."

"Your wings?" Mercy shook her head. "Didn't Maze cut them off?"

"Yes," Lucifer murmured, still carefully touching the scar. "But I have them tucked away in a safe place."

"Wait." Mercy pushed his hand away so he would look at her. "You said you had them taken off so you _couldn't_ return to Hell. But you kept them. Can-can they reattach?"

Lucifer pursed his lips briefly. "If needed, yes."

"So... so you _do_ have a way back to Hell," Mercy said.

"Yes, yes, I do, so what?" Lucifer demanded, looking slightly irate. "I spent the past several thousand millennia down there. If I found Earth to be even worse, I wanted a little insurance."

"Look, I get it," Mercy said, raising her hands in surrender. "Change can both suck and be awesome. I just... it surprised me, is all."

Lucifer rolled his eyes and leaned back in the sofa. "Yes, well, as I was saying... my wings carry divine power. It's something that could be quite damaging to humans. The-the residue, I guess we'll call it, on your scar is similar, but at the same time it's nothing like it."

"Okay, because that makes sense," Mercy replied sarcastically.

Lucifer lifted a finger. "Let me try to explain. Let's say that divine power is... unnatural. It's something that _cannot_ occur on Earth. There's also demonic power as well, something that only occurs in Hell or in the beings from it."

"Like Maze," Mercy said.

"Yes. She has some blades she's rather fond of that were forged in Hell," Lucifer replied. "They're something that couldn't have been created here. However, they... _feel_ different than my wings."

Mercy nodded, showing she was following. "And my scar?"

"You're scar is... a _third_ feeling," Lucifer said. "It isn't divine, it isn't demonic, but it isn't natural."

Mercy reached up and touched the scar tentatively. She didn't feel anything strange, but she wasn't sure if she'd be able to sense something from herself. When it came to Lucifer, all she noticed was the pull to his eyes. She couldn't get any sort of sense from Maze.

"I feel like this just adds more questions than answers," Mercy murmured.

"Oh, no doubt about that," Lucifer said. "But like I said, we'll figure it out. I give you my word, and my word is my bond." He smiled at her.

"I'm not going to owe you a favor, am I?" Mercy asked, raising a suspicious brow at him.

Lucifer chuckled. "No, no, no. You just being here and being... _you_ is the most exciting thing that's happened to me on Earth so far. I think that's payment enough."

"Cool, 'cause I would have told you no anyway." Mercy smirked at him.

"Ugh, and it's so annoying that you could get away with it," Lucifer grunted. "You didn't answer my question."

"Which one?"

"Why are you shy one moment, but bluffing Grey Cooper into admitting he had an affair in front of his wife the next?"

"Well, you technically got him to confess."

"Now, now, no changing the subject."

Mercy sighed heavily and adverted her gaze. "I... I mean, I used to be pretty rambunctious. Got into shit at school, was constantly being disciplined for being too sassy with teachers and other students... No one could really stand me, to be honest. I was always joking, always being this snarky little shit and pulling pranks. Nothing big, just like plastic wrap in doorways and confetti in car vents and stuff."

She pulled her legs up while kicking off her runners to sit crosslegged. She gripped her ankles and stretched her arms straight for a moment, her spine tensing from the unpleasant memories.

"It was all just fun and games with me. I got really good at just talking my way out of trouble, but it was usually only a temporary thing. It usually got back around and then I was in even more trouble. Had some problems with authority. Friends kept ditching me, but I just kept joking and kept teasing... maybe to just disguise how sad it made me, I dunno.

"But I never pulled that shit with my mom. I mean, sure, I sassed her and teased, but she knew when I was joking, she even went along with some of my pranks when they weren't, well, dangerous or downright mean. She spoke sarcasm like it was her native tongue. Then Victoria came along and..."

Mercy could feel the dark visceral anguish rising up in her lungs. She swallowed the lump growing in her throat and shifted uncomfortably. Lucifer's eyes glinted with concern, but he remained silent, letting her take her time.

"When I went into hiding, I kinda changed," Mercy murmured. "I couldn't be this loud, wild girl anymore. I had to change my name, ditch my life, get out of the country."

"The country?" Lucifer repeated, frowning.

Mercy glanced over at him. "I'm Canadian."

Lucifer blinked in mild surprise. "Oh. Well, I'll just stock up all my jokes involving moose and maple syrup." At Mercy's glare, he added, "For another time, of course."

"How kind of you," Mercy scoffed. "But, yeah... I got so used to keeping myself hidden away and making sure no one really noticed me that I kind of almost forgot what it's like to let loose like that." She exhaled sharply and smiled a bit. "It was nice."

"You won't hear any complaints from me," Lucifer said, lifting his hands. "I think this mischievous side of you is quite fun."

"Yeah, well, you're a shit influence," Mercy told him, giving him a playful shove.

"I take that as a compliment," Lucifer replied, lifting his chin.

Mercy chuckled and rested her head against the back of the sofa. Her mind was drifting back in time... back to the day when Victoria burst into that little apartment with the promise of death and despair.

"Lucifer..." she murmured. "I think I need to tell you what Victoria did."

Lucifer blinked and frowned at her as she sat up to look at him.

"You seemed dead set against it earlier," he reminded her, his tone gentle.

"Yeah, but that was before this whole healing thing," Mercy said. "It... it's making me think..."

"All right," Lucifer straightened his jacket and put his hands on his knees, giving her his full attention. "I'm listening."

"Victoria learned about me when I was about sixteen," Mercy explained. "She must have followed my dad when he came to visit. She was pissed, kept mentioning his father and how disappointed he was going to be and how I... how I shouldn't exist. My mother was distraught, she told them to leave and we ended up leaving town the next day."

Lucifer nodded, showing he was following her words. Mercy was a bit relieved that he didn't interrupt or make any quips.

"We went all the way to Toronto, and now I think it was to blend in inside the big city," Mercy went on. "It's just like what I'm doing here, why I chose LA. I didn't see my father again. My mother told me that he died when I was eighteen—apparently she heard about it through some old friends."

Mercy took a deep breath and gripped her knees for a moment, bracing herself.

"Conor, my brother, ended up visiting me. This was a little over four years ago. I hadn't seen him in so long. He seemed worried. He wanted me to take a trip with him, but I was just starting a job with the police department—I was helping them with criminal profiling. I couldn't just up and leave.

"Then... the next week, I came home from work... I still stayed with my mom. Cheaper that way, plus we only had each other. But... but when I walked in the door..." Mercy took a deep, shuddering breath.

She hadn't talked about this to anyone but Conor, and even then it was years ago. It hurt to look back, to remember the look on her mother's terrified face, the murderous expression on Victoria's...

"There were three people I didn't know tied to the dining room chairs, all put in a circle around my mother, who was tied to the fourth one in the middle," Mercy whispered. "I... I'd never seen those people before in my life. I don't know why Victoria chose them. One was some business man—cheap suit and tie, coffee stain on his shirt... another was an old woman... probably someone's grandmother. She was trembling and sobbing... Then... then there was the kid."

Mercy brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly as her lip began to tremble.

"He was probably only eight..." she whispered, her voice cracking.

Lucifer's eyes were struck with horror and confusion. Mercy could tell there were a thousand questions on his tongue, but he managed to keep them to himself, though his mouth was slightly agape.

"Victoria had them all gagged and she jumped me the second I came in. Tied me up and threw me on the ground near the circle of chairs," Mercy rasped. "She stabbed the old woman first. I remember her muttering some nonsense. I can't recall the exact words, but it was... it was something about age or old or something. She had this long thin dagger—it looked ornate. Maybe ceremonial?"

Mercy shifted in her seat and pressed on, determined to get through the story as quickly as possible.

"I... she killed all three of them before moving to my mother. Please don't ask me how, I... I don't think I can get into that right now," Mercy said. "After they were dead, she... she killed my mom. The whole time, she was muttering nonsense... something about age, innocence, and I remember her using the words 'prime' and 'salvation.'"

"That... I'm sorry all that happened to you," Lucifer said, and his expression told her he meant those words. "How... how did you escape?"

"Well, she was using this strange dagger—it was thin and long and more silver than steel in color, you know?" Mercy said. "After... after she killed my mother, she looked at me as if expecting something to happen. But nothing did. She got really angry and confused, kept muttering about how she must have done something wrong. Then Conor got there."

"Your brother?" Lucifer asked.

Mercy nodded. "He knocked Victoria out. Hit her so hard she went across the room... Then he untied me and told me to run. He said the police couldn't help—Victoria had them in her pocket. He told me to go to this park we met at earlier that week and wait for him. So... so I did.

"Conor eventually showed up. He's the one who helped me get out of Canada and keep off the grid. Gave me this old thing that can't be tracked, but I could still keep in contact with him..." Mercy pulled her flip phone out of her pocket and ran a thumb over it. "I've been on the run ever since. Changed my name, changed my life... The world thinks the real me is dead—apparently Victoria's pull with the police there was enough to peg me as one of the victims."

Mercy looked up and met Lucifer's eyes.

"The reason I wanted to tell you is because... well, it always disturbed me how ritualistic Victoria's attack was—how she killed those three strangers and my mother. I thought she was just crazy. But-but now there are angels and shit in the world that I'm somehow immune to and I can heal stupid fast," Mercy pressed.

"It certainly suggests a connection," Lucifer murmured. "Victoria never got caught? Never faced justice for this?"

"No, Conor is the one who got the blame," Mercy said. "I could never come forward as a witness and his DNA was at the scene... so he's in hiding just like me. He used to check in every month, but his call is late this time... but I haven't heard anything in the news regarding the case."

"Atrocious..." Lucifer whispered venomously. "For someone to commit such a crime and not even be punished... She's still in Canada?"

Mercy suddenly knew what Lucifer was thinking. "Luci, no."

"What?"

"You're not going to try and find Victoria," Mercy said firmly. "We don't know what's happening. What I am—what she could be? Clearly she has to be aware of my... uniqueness. It would be dangerous!"

That and the very idea of Victoria finding her made Mercy's blood freeze.

"Sure, we don't know what she is, but we know what _I_ am," Lucifer argued. "Who can can truly stand a chance against the Devil?"

"Well, I'm immune to your powers," Mercy reminded him. "What if she is too?"

Lucifer abruptly reached out and gripped Mercy's wrist. She gasped and tried to pull away, but his grasp might as well have been stone. He met her eyes and leaned toward her.

"You're immune to my charms and my pull on desire, true," he murmured. "But you forget about some other factors, such as my strength and my own immunity to death."

"Lucifer," Mercy looked at his hand warily. It just reminded her how powerful he really was and that if he wanted to, he could snap her in half.

However, Lucifer exhaled softly through his nose and let go of her. "I don't think Victoria would pose a threat to me," he said.

"We don't know that," Mercy said. "What if she's... what if she's not human? What if she's this third thing—not divine, not forged in Hell, but still unnatural? Just... promise me you won't attempt to find her until we know what... what I am."

Lucifer hesitated, his eyes darting around as his expression grew conflicted.

"Luci!" Mercy snapped.

"Fine!" Lucifer caved. "I promise."

"And your word is your bond," Mercy reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. "Using my words against me..." He glanced toward her with sudden interest. "So... if Mercy isn't your birth name... what is?"

Mercy considered him for a moment, pursing her lips. "You know you can't use it in front of anyone."

Lucifer's eyes lit up, realizing he was going to get an answer. "Of course."

Mercy sighed and tapped her foot a few times before saying, "Astrid. Astrid Vale."

"Astrid." Lucifer smiled lightly. "Very viking."

Mercy didn't expect to find hearing her real name so pleasant. She thought it would just remind her of the past, of the horrors that Victoria brought. But Lucifer's smile made her smile back.

"And your mother and father?" Lucifer prompted. "It's just so I can do some innocent research—nothing to find Victoria, as promised."

"Lily Vale and Theo Bolt," Mercy said. "Victoria never took his name, I guess."

Mercy's phone started to ring at that point. She frowned and looked at it to see an number she didn't recognize.

"Hello?" she answered warily.

"Hey, Mercy, it's Detective Decker."

"Oh, Chloe—I-I mean, Detective," Mercy said, and Lucifer perked up in interest.

"Did one of them confess?" he asked.

"I was hoping to meet somewhere and bounce some ideas off you two," Chloe said. "You insisted on being involved, after all."

"Yeah, yeah," Mercy replied. "Are you anywhere close to Lux? That's where we're at."

"Yes, actually," Chloe said. "I'll be there shortly."

"Cool," Mercy said. "Bye—"

The line was already quiet; Chloe had hung up. Mercy shook her head and shut her phone.

"The Detective's on her way," she told Lucifer, getting to her feet. "I'm betting she'll go to the club floor."

"What did she say?" Lucifer asked.

"Not much, just that she wanted to talk about the case," Mercy said as they walked toward the hall.

In the still-quiet club, Mercy and Lucifer sat on the table close to the piano just as Chloe walked out of the elevator.

"So, Grey and Amanda have zero connection to the shooter," she said as she strode toward them.

"But the shooter had the same watch as Grey. That can't be a coincidence," Lucifer said.

"Maybe Delilah gave him one too, like kind of a go-to gift," Chloe replied, sitting down across from them.

"Well, that would imply that she was actually sleeping with that maggot," Lucifer said.

"Really?" Chloe leaned forward on the table. "Jimmy, 2Vile, Grey Cooper. That's three other maggots she's sleeping with. I don't think there's a lot of discretion going on with her."

"Yeah," Lucifer admitted with a sigh. "Suppose you have a point."

"No, it still doesn't add up," Mercy pressed. "She was sticking to celebrities, be they renowned or not. There was a pattern."

"We can't know that she was exclusive to Hollywood stars or not," Chloe pointed out.

"Yeah, but some random drug dealer." Mercy put her elbows on the table and her chin in one hand. "No, she stuck with the rich and the famous."

She recalled the lavish wedding Jimmy had along with the insane house 2Vile lived in. Grey Cooper was in almost as many movies as Nicholas Cage, so he had to be living it up. Yet 2Vile and Jimmy didn't have a watch—that they knew of.

"Wait..." Mercy suddenly sat up. "Luci, what was it you said to Jimmy at his wedding today?"

"That he was a fugly homunculus?" Lucifer replied.

"No-no-no, it was... it was something about his wedding," Mercy said. "You mentioned that he was a 'producer on the outs.' Meaning he was tight on cash, right?"

"Yes," Lucifer said slowly, eyeing her warily.

"Oh." Chloe's eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, wow. You're right!"

"Yeah!" Mercy beamed at her and nodded excitedly.

"Can someone share with the class?" Lucifer demanded.

Chloe was getting to her feet. "Delilah didn't give that watch to the drug dealer," she said as she quickly went to the elevator.

Lucifer and Mercy followed in haste.

"Okay, so?" Lucifer pressed as they rode it down.

"So Jimmy was broke, not much room to pay for someone to kill her," Mercy said. "Instead..."

"He pays him with a 10 grand watch." Lucifer's expression carried dawning realization.

"Yeah, and yet he still had that expensive wedding the next day," Mercy said. "Which means, he was expecting to get money. And what sells better than a dead artist's work?"


	6. Chapter 6

Jimmy Barnes was at his recording studio. Chloe let them come inside with her, on the stipulation that they stand back and let her work. The plan was to simply go in, arrest him, and then have him returned to the station. Simple enough, after all, a man that hires someone else to do his dirty work might not have much bite.

There was a band playing in the studio at the moment—some young man with a soft high voice perfect for singing ballads to tweens. Just as they entered, Jimmy was storming into the recording room, scolding the singer.

"You got a gerbil in your throat?" he demanded.

The young man grimaced, but before he replied, he spotted Chloe, Mercy, and Lucifer stepping into the room behind Jimmy. The producer turned around, perking a brow at them.

"What's going on?" Jimmy asked.

"Hello, Jimmy." Lucifer stepped forward, smiling wickedly. "How's the album sales doing?"

"What album?" Jimmy asked warily, looking between the three newcomers.

"Soundtrack to Time Will Tell," Chloe said. "Which you produced. Whitney Houston hit the top ten for album sales after her death. Michael Jackson hit the stratosphere. Not sure you'll achieve such heights having Delilah killed, but that sure is a boatload of royalty checks headed your way."

The color left Jimmy's face. He pursed his lips into a tight line as sweat began to bead on his brow and receding hairline.

"Guess you really needed the cash, huh?" Chloe asked. "Which is why you had to pay the shooter with your watch. The watch Delilah gave you. Now, that's just sick. But then, so are you."

Abruptly, Jimmy grabbed the tween-swooning singer and pulled a pistol from his waistband. The safety clicked off as he aimed it at the poor guy's head.

"Hey, Jimmy?" Chloe said, pulling out her own gun.

"I made her and she ruined me," Jimmy spat. "She humiliated me. She owes me."

"You're not God, Jimmy, you didn't make her," Lucifer said. "But you did destroy her." He began to stalk forward his gaze boring into Jimmy. "So I'm going to punish you."

"You back off, you freak!" Jimmy's expression twisted in fear and he opted to let the young man go to aim the gun at Lucifer.

Mercy gestured for the singer to come to her and he hastily did.

"Get outside, call 911, say there's an officer that needs backup okay?" Mercy told him.

He nodded and rushed out of the recording room.

"I mean it!" Jimmy insisted as Lucifer kept walking toward him. "I am not going to jail for that bitch, no chance!"

"Listen to him, Lucifer," Chloe said. "Back off."

"It's fine," Lucifer pressed, keeping his dark gaze on Jimmy. "I'm immortal."

"Talk to him," Chloe said to Mercy.

"He won't listen to me," Mercy replied. "It's ok—"

BANG BANG BANG!

Mercy winced and staggered back from Chloe, covering her ears. The Detective had fired three shots into Jimmy's torso, causing him to collapse to the ground. Lucifer gaped at the fallen man for a moment, shaking his head.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded, whirling to face Chloe.

"He was going to kill you," Chloe said.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Lucifer protested. "You just—you just let him off too easy. He needs to pay! He needs to suffer! He needs to _feel_ the pain, not escape it!"

"Lucifer..." Mercy went to his side and tentatively reached toward him. "Calm down."

"Don't worry, I'm sure where he's going, the pain's coming," Chloe replied, seemingly astonished at Lucifer's reaction.

Lucifer's face fell and he glared back at Jimmy's motionless form. "No. No, it's not, actually." He looked between Mercy and Chloe, his eyes wild with rising anger. "And you know why? Because I'm here and he's—!"

There were two more ear-shattering gunshots. Mercy didn't feel the pain at first, she just felt the impact. She staggered backward as warmth began to spread across her abdomen. Lucifer's eyes stretched wide with panic and horror as she gave a weak gasp and fell to her side.

Somewhere behind her, Chloe was gasping in pain. Mercy was just able to move her head to see the Detective had been shot in the arm and dropped her gun. She stumbled back, gritting her teeth.

Jimmy wasn't dead yet. He had lifted his gun for a final assault.

Lucifer knelt down beside Mercy, staring at the blood pooling beneath her.

"Mercy," he rasped, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Mercy, say something. _Astrid!_"

Mercy opened her mouth, but all that came out was more blood. Darkness tinged the edge of her vision and her body was losing its strength.

"Lucifer, she needs an ambulance," Chloe said, her voice tight with pain.

"I won't let you die," Lucifer said. "I... no... no, no, no!"

"Lucifer," Chloe called again.

"Her soul—her soul isn't..." Lucifer shook his head. "I can't... why can't I—"

Yet another pair of gunshots went off. The back of Lucifer's jacket was abruptly frayed and he grunted. After grimacing briefly, he fixated his eyes on Mercy.

"You hold on, do you understand me?" he said in a stern tone.

"Lucifer?" Chloe rasped.

Lucifer straightened up and turned to face Jimmy, who was gaping in terror. He'd fired two shots into Lucifer's back, and all it did was fray his clothing. There wasn't a single drop of blood.

Chloe knelt beside Mercy next. She looked completely astonished, but at least she was able to have priorities.

"Look at me," the Detective insisted. "Mercy, look at me and don't close your eyes."

Mercy coughed, and blood spurted from her lips. She tried to keep her gaze level with Chloe's, but it was so difficult—so damn difficult.

Somewhere to her right, she could hear Jimmy crying out.

"No, please! No, no, please! Please don't kill me!"

Mercy turned her head to see Lucifer lift Jimmy with ease and slam him against the window of the recording room. The glass cracked and Jimmy grunted in pain.

"Oh, Jimmy," Lucifer snarled. "You're going to wish that's all I did to you."

Just before darkness enveloped her, Mercy saw Lucifer's reflection in the glass. It wasn't the handsome dark-haired man in the room with them. It was a creature with no flesh, red glowing eyes, and a sinister smile that nearly reached its ears.

It was the Devil.

* * *

"...trid. Astrid? Come on..."

Mercy was suspended in muted darkness. Her body was numb and limp. Then, there was a small light glinting at her from above. Mercy peered at it, confused.

"You gotta be more careful, pup."

Mercy turned her head and saw a man with dark hair and beard smirking at her with a wolfish grin. His eyes were jade-green, like hers.

"Conor," Mercy rasped. He was all she could see in the darkness. "I don't understand."

"You nearly died, dumbass," Conor told her.

He reached out and took her hand. Mercy's body flooded with energy and she was gently lifted and set on her feet—standing on some unseen floor beside her brother.

"Well, it's not like I planned on it," she told him.

"That makes it doubly impressive that you got shot twice in a row," Conor teased.

"LA is kinda crazy, what can I say?" Mercy sighed with a shrug.

"In a way, we're kind of lucky this happened," Conor said.

"What? Why?" Mercy frowned at him.

"Because it gives me a chance to talk to you," Conor replied. "You're soul neared the threshold, and if you can get this close... it means that your true self is manifesting."

"Okay, what?" Mercy shook her head. "How about we _don't_ talk in riddles?"

Conor sighed. "Listen, Astrid..." He held her eyes as he used her birth name, something that Mercy hadn't heard in so long. "Victoria found me. She's... she's put me in a place that isn't connected to Earth."

"Isn't connected—Conor, what the hell do you mean?"

The dim light overhead was beginning to grow brighter. Conor looked up at in with irritation.

"I don't have much time," he breathed. "I can't explain everything—the rules and your new strengths and weaknesses—it'll have to wait. So, for now, I'm going to tell you my real name. It's... it's gonna sound crazy, but it's true. It's all true, Astrid."

"Huh?" Mercy perked a brow at him. "What are you talking about? Your real name?"

Conor nodded. "My name is Fenrir."

Before Mercy could even open her mouth in response, she was suddenly out of the darkness. She laid on a large bed, surrounded by pillows and comfortable sheets and down blankets, but since she didn't have her glasses on, the rest of her surroundings were blurred. Mercy slowly reached toward her abdomen. There was only mild pain now, nothing compared to the red hot piercing when the bullet first hit her.

Lifting the sheets slightly, she saw she was wearing one of her oversized T-shirts and some baggy sweats. Lifting her shirt, she exposed her bandaged torso. She didn't see any blood, not even on the gauze, so that was something. Putting the sheets back down, Mercy propped herself up on her elbows and spotted a bedside table and scooted toward it when she saw the glinting light reflecting off glasses lenses. She slid the familiar specs on, and her surroundings were brought into clarity.

The room she was in was massive and the windows along it reached the ceiling and the floor. There were a few aesthetic pieces of furniture, like rugs and fancy chairs and a coffee table. On the far end of the room was a bar that was only slightly smaller than the one in Lux's club room.

"Oh, welcome back to the land of the living!"

Mercy turned to see Lucifer coming around the corner and into the room. He was wearing his usual attire, but his jacket was off and tie was gone. It was just his vest and button down shirt and slacks. Mercy assumed that this was the penthouse; this was the first time she'd seen it.

"Lucifer..." Mercy sat up fully and winced slightly in pain.

"Yeah, sorry, Maze had to dig the bullet out," Lucifer said. "She was more steady-handed than me at the time."

"I-I don't understand—what happened?" Mercy asked.

"You got shot."

"Yeah, no kidding, but why aren't I dead? Where's the Detective? What happened with Jimmy?"

"Okay, let's do one question at a time, yes?" Lucifer sat on the edge of the bed. "You're not dead because you somehow managed to hold on long enough for us to get the bullet out. After that, well... your body kind of did the rest. Fascinating to watch, really."

Mercy looked down at her pajamas and her cheeks began to warm.

"You didn't—?" she began.

"No, I didn't peek," Lucifer assured, waving her off. "Maze did though. Well, she was the one who got you changed and out of those bloody clothes."

"S-so..." Mercy lifted her shirt again and carefully pulled back some of the bandaging. There was a small circular wound that was just scabbed over. It looked several days old. "Oh that's wild..."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed. "This one took more time to heal than your shoulder, though."

"How long was I out?" Mercy asked.

"Three years," Lucifer replied grimly.

Mercy gaped at him until he began to smirk.

"You ass," Mercy said as he began to chuckle.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," Lucifer replied. "No, it's only been two days."

Mercy shook her head in astonishment. "Jeez. What did you tell Blake and the others?"

"That you've had a disgusting stomach bug and been vomiting all over the place. Maze backed me on it," Lucifer said with a shrug.

"And the Detective?" Mercy pressed.

"She's recovering from her own gunshot, though not as fast as you," Lucifer said. "Took me ages to convince her not to send you to a proper hospital. I figured the doctors might lose their mind about how well you bounce back from a fatal gunshot."

"Thanks for that," Mercy said. "But what I meant was... I mean, Luci, she saw you get shot and not even bleed."

"Yeah." Lucifer pursed his lips briefly. "She's not _quite _convinced I'm actually the Devil but she does know that the two of us aren't... normal."

"She... she's not like... losing her mind, or...?"

"She's... adjusting. After all, she did experience my gift first hand and saw how Dr. Linda Martin reacted to me." Lucifer shrugged nonchalantly. "Hopefully when the 'Devil' bit clicks she won't... slip."

"And Jimmy?"

Lucifer adverted his gaze. Mercy abruptly remembered his reflection in the glass just before she passed out. Was that what Lucifer really looked like? Or was he showing that to Jimmy to terrify him?

"I made certain that he was punished for his transgressions," Lucifer said. "He's currently being held in a mental facility awaiting trial."

"Nice," Mercy said with a nod. "Glad he didn't get away with it."

She hesitated for a moment, furrowing her brow. Finally, she looked at Lucifer.

"When... just before I was out..." she said slowly, "...you were saying something about my soul."

"Oh." Lucifer replied. "Oh, yes. Um, well, usually I can manipulate souls, so to speak. Pull one back from the edge or push one over. However, your soul... I can't seem to... grip it."

"Okay?"

"It's bizarre, really. It's nothing I've ever encountered," Lucifer admitted. "Perhaps you weren't as close to the threshold as I thought."

_Threshold..._

Mercy shook her head slowly, recalling the bizarre dream she had just before she woke up.

"What?" Lucifer asked, seeing her pensive expression.

"I just..." Mercy paused for a moment and then ran a hand through her messy ginger hair. "Where have I heard that name before...?"

"What're you talking about?" Lucifer asked, frowning at her.

Mercy carefully got out of the bed. "Laptop—I need a laptop, or something with internet."

Lucifer, still confused, headed over to his coffee table and picked up a tablet. He handed it to Mercy and she quickly unlocked it and went to the internet search engine to type in a single word: _Fenrir._

The results lined up and she quickly scanned them with mounting apprehension.

"No way," she breathed.

"Stop teasing and tell me what's going on," Lucifer said.

"I... okay, it might have just been a dream," Mercy said as she clicked one of the links. "But... when I was out, I was in this darkness and my brother came to talk to me. Conor."

"And?" Lucifer prompted.

"Well, he said a bunch of cryptic crap that didn't really make sense, and right before I woke up, he told me his real name was... Fenrir." Mercy turned the tablet over to Lucifer with the wikipedia page regarding who Fenrir was.

"Fenrir, yes, I know this," Lucifer said. "Giant wolf, isn't he? Norse mythology..." He trailed off as he read some of the page. He looked up at Mercy with widening eyes. "No..."

Mercy shrugged, her own mind in a jumble.

"Th-that would... if that wasn't a dream, if your brother is saying he's Fenrir—_the_ Fenrir, _this _Fenrir—" Lucifer tapped the page intently, "—then that would mean your father..."

"My father is the Norse god, Loki," Mercy whispered.

Lucifer put the tablet back on the table and stared out of the window blankly for a moment, as if he were mentally piecing together a puzzle.

"It's supposed to be a myth, that's why they call it mythology," Lucifer finally said, his tone clipped with irritation. "Father didn't make them, he never mentioned them, I've never encountered them. It isn't possible, and yet..."

He turned to face her, eyeing her carefully.

"And yet it makes perfect sense. Your immunity to angelic power, why your step-mother wanted so much to kill you. Because you're the bastard of a god. That's why you heal so fast, that's why I can't grip your soul. You're a _demigod_."

Mercy let out a nervous laugh. "Okay, let's not use that word yet—like I said it could have just been a dream."

"You _truly_ think that was just a dream?" Lucifer asked.

Mercy adverted her gaze. "I-I dunno. I mean, if you didn't know they existed, then surely they don't, right? I mean, you've been around since before the Earth was created. You would have had to have seen something."

Lucifer shook his head slowly, his expression tight with concentration. "I don't know. I mean, if they are real, it could be that they're more than capable of hiding themselves. This could mean so much—it could mean that Greek Mythology is real as well, and Zeus isn't someone I want to share the playing field with—he seemed like a total douche."

"This is insane," Mercy rasped. "This can't be it."

"Do you have another explanation for the whole super-healing angelic resistance thing?" Lucifer said, perking a brow at her. "I don't think your subconscious would just conjure up that dream. It's significant. Did your brother tell you anything else?"

"He said Victoria found him and trapped him in a place that wasn't connected to Earth," Mercy said.

"Okay, so like Heaven or Hell, but this is Norse mythology we're talking, so... so Odin, Thor—Asgard? Has she sealed him in Asgard?"

"He didn't say, but that would be the place, I'd imagine."

"Ugh, we finally have a clue to what you are and all it does is makes things far more complicated." Lucifer bit his lip and sat down on the foot of the bed again.

Mercy slipped out from under the covers and strode over to the bar on the left side of the room. "I think I need a drink."

"Pour two, would you?" Lucifer asked, rubbing his brow.

Mercy grabbed two glasses from behind the bar and eyed the expansive selection of booze that lined the wall. She spotted some rum and snagged that. Lucifer walked over to her side as she popped the lid and poured a handsome amount of the dark liquid into each glass.

"Well," Lucifer said as he picked one up and offered it in a toast. "To being more confused than ever."

"Cheers," Mercy agreed, clanking her glass with his.


	7. Chapter 7

Lucifer plinked away on the piano, the tune slightly somber and slow. Playing always helped him think. This was, perhaps, his favorite invention of mankind. So many thought the Devil preferred the fiddle, but no. It was the wondrous variety of the piano that he adored. The instrument could convey just about any feeling; playful, sorrowful, even anger.

It had been a day since Mercy recovered. She was off with her bandmates at the moment; practice, she had said. Lucifer had offered them to practice in the club, after all, it was still early afternoon and this was where they preformed anyway. However, Mercy insisted that practicing in Hutch's garage was a tradition of sorts.

Lucifer couldn't help but wonder if she wanted time away. Away from Lux, away from the insanity that was unfolding about what she was, away from him...

There was a sour sound as Lucifer hit the wrong key. He grimaced and pushed back from the piano. He hadn't ever messed up a song, not once, not even when he was making it up as he went.

Irritated, Lucifer got to his feet and turned to walk toward the bar, but there was someone standing in his path.

"Bloody hell," Lucifer groaned. "What do you want from me?"

Amenadiel looked him over, his expression hard and unfeeling. He was nearly a head taller than Lucifer and leered down at him like a disappointed parent.

"I've been watching you, Lucifer," he said.

Lucifer paused briefly. Did that mean he knew about Mercy? About how she could very well be the offspring of something that they never thought to truly exist?

"You perv," Lucifer replied smoothly, giving his brother a suggestive smirk.

"And I'm not sure I like what I see," Amenadiel went on. "You're showing restraint, mercy."

Lucifer relaxed a touch. It didn't sound like the angel knew the truth. It seemed all he knew was how Lucifer assisted the police catch a murderer.

"You scared I'm turning my back on the dark side, bro?" Lucifer asked, putting his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Lucifer, there is a balance here that we must maintain," Amenadiel snarled. "I strongly suggest you do what I told you and go back to Hell."

Lucifer took a step forward, taking his hands out of his pockets. He glared up at Amenadiel unflinchingly.

"Don't threaten me, Amenadiel," he said softly. "I mean, you don't want to start a war."

"I would love a war." Amenadiel narrowed his eyes to slits momentarily before he chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, Luci... My hatred for you grows stronger with every visit."

Lucifer's brow twitched. Amenadiel—along with many others among his siblings—had called him that before. Yet somehow, ever since Mercy started using it, it sounded sour and uncouth on any other tongue.

"Well, I wouldn't have it any other way, pal," Lucifer said tightly. "I look forward to eating your heart one day. Peace."

Amenadiel sneered at him one last time before his wings stretched and flapped once, taking him from sight. When he left, Lucifer spotted Maze standing behind the bar, leaning forward on her elbows and eyeing Lucifer.

"I sense your disapproval, Maze," Lucifer said as he approached her. "What is it?"

"I understand that the girl is unique, but we need to think about this," Maze said. "Her immunity to your power? To Amenadiel's? That could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Lucifer scoffed. "Please."

"I'm serious, Lucifer," Maze pressed when he reached the bar. "If that whole crap with Mythology existing is true, that brings a lot of shit our way, don't you think?"

"Shit that I am capable of handling," Lucifer said. "Immortal, remember?"

Maze didn't look convinced.

"Come on, you have to admit it's interesting," Lucifer said. "The most interesting thing that's happened since we got here. Don't you think it's at least a little bit fun?"

Maze groaned and pushed off the bar to stand fully. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

As she walked away, Lucifer pursed his lips. He didn't think that Mercy was dangerous, but he had a feeling that the woman after her life—Victoria—very well could be.

*.*.*

Mercy put her glasses on then off again, staring into the mirror.

"Okay, so now I'm Peter Parker," she murmured.

It had been a couple of weeks after her near-death experience and bizarre dream with Conor. Her bandmates had been relieved to hear from her when she finally woke up. Miles even joked that he thought Lucifer might have killed her or something. They played each Friday, and every week Lux's crowd got a touch larger and their royalties increased. That, on top of Lucifer's ridiculous pay, had all four of them very well off.

However, financial changes weren't what was keeping Mercy's attention.

She stood in her luxurious bathroom, standing in front of the wide mirror. The counters were of immaculate black marble with two sinks. This contrasted well with the deep red walls and tiled flooring. Behind her was a large shower stall with three faucets—one angled from the right, one from the left, and one from directly above. Beside that was a massive, triangular tub that sunk down into the floor, complete with jets. Mercy had already put bubble back in and set the jets on high just for the fun of it. The bubbles ended up nearly reaching the ceiling and Lucifer's cleaning staff was not pleased with her.

Mercy was in a blue tank top and white underwear—comfortable boy shorts. She once again put on her glasses, only for her reflexion to distort and blur. When she pulled them off, the image sharpened—crystal clear, better than she could see even _with_ her glasses before. She'd gone from being practically legally blind to Spider-Man.

Sighing, she set her favored large black-rimmed glasses down on the counter. She loved her specs—she was so used to having something to push up the bridge of her nose. Her bandmates knew she hated contacts, so she supposed she was going to have to get non-prescription glasses like a hipster.

Mercy hung the glasses on the neck of her tank top and strode out of the bathroom, tousling her damp hair. The eye thing didn't really happen overnight—it had taken three nights, actually. The first one, she barely noticed. By the second morning, she was thoroughly confused, thinking she was going to have to go to the eye doctor soon, but now...

After turning the corner and walking into her living room, Mercy nearly screeched when she spotted someone standing next to her couch.

"Lucifer?!"

"Oh, there you are," Lucifer said casually, turning to face her. He spotted what she was wearing an a approving smile took his lips. "Oh, that's very fetching on you."

"What are you doing in here?!" Mercy demanded as heat flooded her face.

"Why aren't you wearing your glasses?" Lucifer asked.

"Don't need them, apparently," Mercy muttered as she hurried over to the sofa and snatched a green plaid throw blanket to drape around herself.

"Oh, very Spider-Man," Lucifer said.

"That's what I said—what, what are you doing in here?" Mercy snapped.

"I find myself eager to learn more about you," Lucifer replied.

"So you just hop into my apartment without knocking?" Mercy perked a brow at him. "You said no creeping."

"I'm not _creeping,_ why must you insist on using that term?" Lucifer retorted. "I had an idea and wanted to run it by you. And for the record, I did knock, you didn't answer."

"I was in the shower," Mercy murmured.

"I know, I heard the water when I came in," Lucifer said, eyeing her up and down even though she was thoroughly covered in the blanket. "Your singing is lovely, as always."

Mercy wanted to throw something at him but she wasn't about to let go of her blanket. "What's this idea, then?" she asked, exasperated.

"Well, we learned quite a bit just from that one case we worked with the Detective," Lucifer said, straightening his fancy suit jacket. "Between you and me, our powers of persuasion could be unstoppable. We found out you can survive a gunshot to the abdomen, even when it nicked your lower lung. Plus, I think punishing these criminals is quite fun, don't you?"

Mercy stared at him for a long moment. "You're joking."

"Why would I be joking?" Lucifer chuckled.

Mercy shook her head slowly. "Luci, I almost died!"

"But you didn't!"

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Mercy grumbled, turning and heading down the hall toward her bedroom.

Lucifer trotted after her. "Oh, come on! I won't let anything like that happen again, I promise."

"You're suggesting we go chasing after criminals!" Mercy snapped.

When he started to follow her into her room, she shot him a stern look and he raised his hands in surrender. Mercy closed the door and turned the lock before dropping the blanket and looking for some proper clothes.

"Yes, and punishing them!" Lucifer called through the door. "Bringing them to justice! Isn't that something to strive for?"

"You strive to get laid every night, but that doesn't mean it's for everyone," Mercy said, snatching some jeans and a T-shirt she'd gotten from Conor. It was the shirt he wore to her talent show performance in high school and was still too big for her. It had the words "ASTEROID'S WEREWOLF" and a wolf riding an astroid beneath it. He'd had it specially made. Asteroid was a nickname he gave her which was a play off Astrid. He thought he was so clever.

Since her dream about Conor, a lot of things were making too much sense. Conor, being as hairy as he was, was often called "werewolf" by their siblings and friends. He'd taken it like a badge of honor and had wolf stuff all around him. It's why he put a wolf sticker on her guitar case. The name Conor even meant wolf. That on top of all the physical changes Mercy was experiencing did nothing but continue to convince her that the dream had been real.

That Conor was Fenrir and their father was Loki.

"It's not my fault some people are boring," Lucifer said. There was a thud and Mercy pictured him leaning on the door.

"Luci, I just think this might be a tad overzealous," Mercy said as she pulled on her jeans. "I mean, wouldn't it be dangerous to draw attention to the fact that we're different?"

"What can a bunch of humans do?" Lucifer scoffed.

"Uh, loads of medical experimentation," Mercy replied as she opened her door.

Lucifer had indeed been leaning on it and nearly fell over when she did so. He caught his footing and then looked Mercy over.

"I prefer the tank top and cute little shorts," he said.

"I prefer you not to be an ass, but look where we are!" Mercy smiled humorlessly at him.

Lucifer sighed. "I wouldn't let anything like that happen to you. Don't you trust me?"

Mercy considered him for a moment. Sure, she did, but she didn't trust a bunch of homicidal maniacs. What if the next bullet got stuck in her heart? Her brain? Who was to say those parts of her could even heal like the rest? She didn't know enough about herself and her limits to take such risks.

"Is Chloe even cool with this?" Mercy asked rather than answer him.

Lucifer shrugged. "I'm sure I can convince her."

Mercy rolled her eyes. "You're impossible." She began to walk down her hallway. "I gotta go to the store and get some 'reading glasses.' The band knows I hate contacts; don't want to have to answer any more questions than I have to."

"Let me come with you," Lucifer offered cheerfully.

Mercy hesitated, giving him a reluctant look.

"Oh, come on!" Lucifer said. "I'll even drive you."

"You'll drive me to Walmart to get reading glasses?" Mercy asked him skeptically.

"Ew, of course not. I'll take you to a much better store to pick up a pair, one that's stylish," Lucifer replied.

"I'm not shelling out $500 for glasses that don't even had prescription lenses."

"I'll take care of it."

"That's... no, I don't want you to do that."

"Why not? I don't mind. I've loads of money, in case you didn't notice."

"It's about principle, Luci."

"Ugh, fine, I'll drive you to... How about Target? They're a touch less..." Lucifer paused, searching for a word while his nose was wrinkled in mild disgust. "Crawling with urchins."

"Wow." Mercy rolled her eyes and started heading for the door. "You are what's wrong with corporate America."

"Says the Canadian." Lucifer followed after her.

"I didn't want to leave," Mercy retorted. "The weather is much nicer there and I don't have to deal with nearly as many rude people."

"The weather is..." Lucifer shook his head as they got into the elevator. "What is your idea of nice weather?"

"Soft snow, no wind, temp at a nice almost but not quite freezing," Mercy said with a shrug.

"You are bizarre," Lucifer told her.

"Yeah, I think we've established that." Mercy tapped the glasses hanging on her neckline.

About an hour later, Mercy was checking her reflexion in Lucifer's sleek black car as they drove away from the nearest Target. She found a pair of glasses that looked quite a bit like her old ones. She sighed as she looked at herself and leaned back in her seat.

"You know, I feel like I should just be prepared to be confused and astounded by what my body does next but I doubt it'll make a difference," she muttered.

"You said that your brother mentioned you 'manifesting,' didn't you?" Lucifer asked. "In the dream, I mean?"

"Yeah." Mercy nodded.

"That answers why you haven't had these healing abilities or better eyesight until now," Lucifer mused. "So I'd wager that you will only continue to see more changes."

"Great, grand," Mercy muttered, pushing the sun visor back up and slumping back. "Because that's exactly what I need."

Lucifer's brows furrowed as his expression grew pensive. "Now... I do find one thing strange."

"Only one?"

"You didn't start changing until the week you met me."

Mercy blinked and glanced at him. "Yeah, I suppose that is a weird coincidence."

"Or, not a coincidence at all," Lucifer suggested. "Perhaps being around other beings of divinity triggered it somehow. After all, you are half human, assuming your mother isn't secretly a Greek Goddess or something, that would make things even more complicated..."

Mercy put her arm on the car door. The windows were down along with the roof, allowing her to tap her fingers against the black paint on the outside.

"Conor said that he was only able to talk to me because I was near the threshold..." Mercy murmured. "That my soul was."

Lucifer cast her a wary look. "Yes, and?"

"So what if..." Mercy pursed her lips briefly. "What if I got close to the threshold again? I dunno what the threshold is leading to, but it seems that nearly dying brought me there. I could try to talk to him aga—"

"No, absolutely not," Lucifer interjected, his tone firm. "We're not going to nearly kill you based on a theory."

"But Conor could give us more answers, don't you think?" Mercy pressed, turning to look at him.

Lucifer shot her a glare before keeping his eyes on the road. "You were the one who was against testing this healing of yours in the first place, remember? Besides, we aren't even one hundred percent certain it wasn't a dream."

"You were the one saying that it made sense!"

"Yes, but not one hundred percent sense!"

"Conor said his mother found him—trapped him—we could figure out how to save him if we tried this."

"We're not trying anything of the sort," Lucifer snapped, his voice not rising in volume but there was a certain authority to it, one that sent a shiver through Mercy's whole body. "I can't grip your soul. What if we don't do it properly, what if you _cross_ that threshold? There would be nothing I could do to bring you back to me."

Mercy blinked at his wording. Lucifer continued to glare out the windshield, his jaw clenched and the hand on the steering wheel white-knuckled. He spoke like he held more fondness over her than Mercy initially believed. She acknowledged that they were friends of sorts by this point, but she always thought Lucifer saw her as a source of intrigue and fun rather than someone he truly cared for.

"Well, it's the only lead we have," Mercy told him gently. "I'm just saying, what else can we really do?"

Lucifer made a turn and Mercy only just realized where they were—Hollywood. This was the wrong way to go to get to Lux.

"We can try it my way," Lucifer said. "And my way usually works quite swimmingly."

"Where are we going?" Mercy asked.

Then she saw the flashing lights and police vehicles up ahead. They were taping off a crime scene as they approached. There had been a wreck of some kind, and near one of the mangled cars stood Detective Chloe Decker.

"Oh my hell," Mercy groaned. "How did you even know?"

"Police scanner." Lucifer tapped a small black box on his dash that Mercy hadn't noticed before. "Got it installed yesterday. Tuned in when you were getting those glasses."

Lucifer pulled off to the side and put the car into park before hopping out, smiling. Mercy found herself a bit relieved that his grin was back. The frustration and anger in him when she suggested bringing her to the threshold again was unnerving and confusing to her.

"Wh-what are we gonna do, just stride in?" Mercy demanded as she trotted after him.

"Well, we'll probably talk someone into letting us stride in," Lucifer said.

Sure enough, the police officer holding the perimeter was a woman. It didn't take Lucifer long to smile, wink, and seductively chat with her before she lifted the police tape to allow them through.

"That reminds me," Mercy said. "Did you really go back to that one therapist—er... Lora?"

"Linda," Lucifer corrected. "And yes, I did go back to hold up my end of the bargain. We actually have another arrangement going. I pay her with naked cuddle time and she lets me talk with her about some things that have been on my mind."

"Hang on, you're seeing her for therapy?" Mercy asked, her eyes widening. "And you're paying her with _sex?_"

"Lucifer, Mercy, what are you two doing here?"

Chloe had walked over to them before Lucifer could answer. She looked between the two of them with apprehension. Mercy recalled Chloe knew the truth about Lucifer but not the whole story with Mercy. Surely she was confused as to how Mercy recovered so fast from her wound. Chloe herself had an arm in one sling.

"Aren't you back to work a bit early, Detective?" Lucifer asked cheekily, nodding to the sling.

Chloe pressed her lips into a tight line and cast Mercy a glance.

"Er, thanks for helping get me out of there after Jimmy, by the way," Mercy said.

"Yeah, I actually have some more questions about that, but now isn't the time," Chloe said. "This is a crime scene."

"Yes, someone ran someone else off the road," Lucifer said. "That's all I got on the radio. Do we have the killer?"

Chloe looked exasperated but there was this other slightly wary gleam in her eyes. She didn't want to tell the Devil himself to screw off, it seemed.

"Paparazzo was trying to get a picture," Chloe said in a low tone. "He tried to lose the tail, lost control of the car instead, died on impact. It's Robbie Russel Jr."

Mercy grimaced. "Not even famous, just the son of a celebrity."

"That makes you famous by default, I'm afraid," Chloe murmured. "The Paparazzo was Nick Hofmeister..."

The way Chloe said the name made Mercy look over at her. Her expression was twisted in something between disgust and satisfaction.

"You've had a run in with this Nick before, I wager?" Lucifer asked, eyeing her.

"Don't-don't do that right now," Chloe snapped, holding up a hand to block Lucifer from her view. "Yes, he took a photo of me a long time ago at a very delicate time. Crashed my dad's funeral." She paused and lowered her hand in defeat. "Damn it, how do you do that?"

"Gift from God," Lucifer replied with a brief smile before glaring over toward a skinny man being cuffed against a nearby police car. "So, he's a cockroach, is what you're saying."

"A cockroach that finally got caught," Chloe said. "But he'll find a way out of this, he always does."

Lucifer looked between Chloe and where Nick was being stuffed into the back of a patrol car. He was a tall, skinny man with long, thinning hair and a wiry beard. Mercy noticed that near the patrol car was Dan, Trixie's father. Mercy wasn't sure if he and Chloe were divorced or separated or what, but he kept shooting the three of us irritated looks.

"You want to talk to him, don't you?" Lucifer asked Chloe. "Well, go on, then. What's stopping you? The _rules?_ Detective Douche? If you desire something, just take it."

"That's really not exactly sound advice—" Mercy began but Lucifer started to walk over to the patrol car.

"What-what is he doing?" Chloe rasped, looking at Mercy as if for help.

Mercy shrugged and trotted after the Devil, bracing herself for whatever insanity he was going to throw them in next.

Lucifer leaned down to look into the window of the patrol car and popped it open. The other officers had stepped away and were busy with the crime scene.

"Hello," Lucifer greeted Nick before grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him out.

As Lucifer pinned Nick against the side of the patrol car, Chloe reached their side and let out a huff of disbelief, but it seemed now that Lucifer had him she was willing to go along with it.

"You finally did it, Nick," she snarled at the man. "You finally wanted a photo so bad that you killed someone. You're not gonna get away with this. I'm gonna make sure of it."

Nick looked between the three of them. His expression was pained and anguished. Slowly, he shook his head.

"You're right," he breathed.

"Say that again?" Chloe asked, her brows shooting up.

"You're right," Nick repeated. "I went too far. I'll confess."

"Okay..." Lucifer slowly released his hold on Nick. "Maybe he's less cockroach, more dung beetle? Police work always this easy?"

"No," Chloe said, shaking her head. "That's the problem." She looked baffled and frustrated as she glared at Nick.

"Right," Lucifer said. "Well, do you mind if I give it a whirl?" He turned to face Nick again, fixated the man in his dark gaze. "Tell me, dung beetle, what is it you desire?"

Nick looked between Lucifer's eyes and squirmed slightly before giving out a shaky breath. "I would like to confess."

"Yes, yes, yes, buy why?" Lucifer demanded.

Nick shook his head. "Because I deserve it. I'ver just done..." he gave a humorless, breathy laugh, "...so many terrible things, you know? I see it as my chance to-to..."

The man trailed off and pressed his lips into a tight line. He recoiled from Lucifer, trying to advert his gaze. Lucifer got closer, putting his face in front of Nick's.

"Chance to what?" the Devil persisted.

"I... I... If I tell you..." Nick's voice was high and strained. He shook his head adamantly. "He's just gonna... No."

"Just—he?" Lucifer gripped Nick's shirt again. "Who?"

Nick was staring at Chloe and Mercy, desperation flooding his eyes.

"Would you please make him stop?" the man begged.

"Who?" Lucifer snapped. "He who?"

"Him..." Nick wheezed. "Tell him."

"What are you hiding?" Lucifer snarled.

Mercy was always aware of the pull Lucifer's eyes had when he used his abilities, but this time, she saw a brief flash of red. It startled her, but before anyone could say anything more, Detective Dan Espinoza was storming over.

"What are you doing?" Dan shouted, grabbing Lucifer's arm and pulling him away.

"Hey!" Lucifer protested.

"None of you are supposed to be here!" Dan said. "Especially you two." He pointed at Lucifer and Mercy.

Lucifer chuckled and lifted his hands. "Come on."

Dan began to reach for his cuffs.

"All right!" Lucifer said, gently grabbing Mercy's arm and leading her away. "Temper temper."

"Sorry, Detective," Mercy said, waving awkwardly to Dan.

"Don't apologize to the douche," Lucifer said.

Chloe followed after them shortly and she looked irritated. The three of them reached Lucifer's car and he sighed rather forlornly as he opened the door and sat down behind the wheel. Clearly, he was bummed that this hadn't been a more interesting case.

"Right, well, that's done," he said and started the car.

Mercy hopped over the car door and into the passenger seat. Lucifer gave her a reproachful look.

"This is real leather interior, I'll have you know!" he said. "You can't just go jumping onto it with those ancient runners."

"Something isn't right," Chloe said before Mercy could reply. She was staring back at the crime scene with a tight expression. "If Nick's covering for someone, that means the real murderer is still out there."

"Yes, plenty of murderers are out there, Detective," Lucifer said. "You heard the man. He deserves the punishment. At least he's getting it."

Chloe continued to stare toward the flashing lights of the patrol car, readjusting the arm in her sling.

"But that's not enough for you is it?" Lucifer murmured. "You hate that dung beetle. Are you really gonna try and prove his innocence?"

"I'm gonna find out who really killed that kid," Chloe vowed.

"So that's a yes!" Lucifer tilted his head slightly. "Wow, aren't you full of surprises."

"It's pretty admirable, actually," Mercy said.

Chloe glanced at her and gave a small smile, but it was brief.

"Well, where do we begin?" Lucifer prompted.

Chloe blinked and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"We didn't just pop by to say hello," Lucifer said. "We're here to help!"

"Why?" Chloe's eyes narrowed somewhat. I could tell that there was some apprehension in her shoulders. She knew now that Lucifer was in fact the Devil, so it wasn't shocking that she'd be hesitant around him.

"For one, I think it'll be quite fun to punish those who deserve it," Lucifer said. "And second, we need to test out some things."

"Test out...? You know what? Never mind, you can tell me in a bit. I've way too many questions regarding you two." Chloe glanced back at the crime scene and sighed. "Just give me a second."

With that she headed back under the police tape, walking toward Detective Espinoza.

"This is absurd," Mercy groaned.

"You don't think it's fun?" Lucifer asked with a grin.

"Not particularly," Mercy said. "I mean... a dumb ass ran the kid off the road for a picture. Whether or not it was that Nick guy doesn't change the fact that it isn't going to help us."

"What d'you mean by that?" Lucifer asked.

"If you're going to insist on us chasing after criminals to test what I'm capable of, don't you think we should be aiming higher than vehicular manslaughter?" Mercy asked.

Lucifer began to dig into his jacket. "Well, I dunno. It could still be fun."

"No, and I think Chloe might want to handle this al—" Mercy cut off when she saw Lucifer pull out a rolled joint and a zippo lighter. "Lucifer!"

"What?" Lucifer asked as he put it between his lips and lit it. "You want some?"

"No!" Mercy said, getting out of the car to get away from the rotten smell.

"Mercy!" Lucifer clamored out of the driver's seat. "It's really relaxing, you might like it!"

"Are you two insane?"

Chloe came storming back toward them, her expression irate.

"Uh, sorry, do you want a hit?" Lucifer asked the Detective as she walked up to him.

Chloe reached up and smacked the joint out of his hand and stamped it out under her shoe on the ground.

"N-no," Lucifer protested. "It's 'puff, puff, pass,' not 'puff, puff, stomp angrily.'"

"You brought pot to a crime scene?!" Chloe spat.

"I most certainly did not," Lucifer argued. "I found it here."

"You found it?" Chloe's face was growing flushed in her growing anger. "you found it here at a crime scene?"

"Yes, in the dung beetle's car," Lucifer said.

Chloe looked over at Mercy, who lifted her arms in surrender.

"I didn't see him do it," she said honestly.

"You smoked evidence?" Chloe whispered tightly.

"Well, it would've gone to waste otherwise. That's really good stuff you just ground under your heel." Lucifer gestured down to it.

Chloe took a deep breath. Mercy was a bit surprised that the Detective was able to be so openly angry with Lucifer despite knowing the truth. Perhaps she was taking a moment to remind herself who she was dealing with, not that Mercy could see Lucifer actually retaliating.

"Any sign he'd recently lit up?" Chloe asked.

"Well, there was a roach from another joint, freshly smoked," Lucifer said.

Chloe pursed her lips. "Nick's pupils weren't dilated. He didn't seem high... maybe he wasn't alone. Where's the roach?"

"Well, I added it to my joint," Lucifer admitted.

Chloe sighed in exasperation.

"It's the best part," Lucifer said defensively.

"So our only evidence is currently in your lungs?" Chloe demanded.

"Uh, you really wanted to say 'up in smoke' then, didn't you?" Lucifer teased with a grin.

Mercy groaned and walked forward. "I'll keep a closer eye on him next time, Detective."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Lucifer argued.

"Don't you, though?" Mercy said, eyeing him skeptically.

"Honestly, no respect..." Lucifer grumbled. He looked back at Chloe. "You said you had questions, Detective. Care to come back to Lux? I'm sure we could address them."

Chloe glanced between the two of them before sighing. "Later. I need to check on some things."

With that she turned and began to head across the street toward the mass of patrol cars.

"Huh. Well, guess it's a party of two," Lucifer said as he and Mercy got into the car.


	8. Chapter 8

Back at Lux that evening just after Save My Hero finished playing, Mercy sat down at a booth with her bandmates. Most of the customers were either passed out or leaving, but a few still ordered some drinks and sat around talking. Maze didn't play music over the speakers on Fridays; it was sort of out of respect to it being their night to play. So all that there was for background noise was a soft hum of mostly drunken conversation.

"White Russians from our favorite bartender," Hutch announced, bringing over four glasses carefully in both hands. He put them on the table before sitting down next to Mercy and smiling.

"Cheers," Miles said, grabbing one and pulling it toward himself. "Wasn't a bad night, eh?"

"I think I was rockin' it," Blake said, her expression smug.

"Mercy, are you used to living here yet?" Hutch asked when Mercy remained quiet and stared across the room blankly.

"Oh, er, kinda." Mercy returned her attention to her friends. "I mean, my digs are pretty sweet."

"I was more so referring to your landlord and our boss," Hutch said with a small chuckled.

"Lucifer?" Mercy glanced across the room where the Devil was chatting with a handsome young man with a provocative gleam in his eyes. "I mean, has he given you any issues?"

"No, no. He's just given me money," Hutch replied with a laugh. "I was worried he was giving _you_ issues."

"Why?" Mercy frowned at him.

Hutch laughed again. "Oh come on! You see how he is with women." He looked over toward Lucifer and blinked. "And men, apparently."

"Don't remind me," Miles grumbled, clearly making certain he didn't look across the club toward the Devil.

"Oh. Oh, no, he doesn't... I mean, okay, he tried at first, but when I told him no, he respected that." Mercy frowned for a moment. "Huh. You know, it's kinda sad that the Devil can understand consent but a lot of humans can't."

Blake raised her brows at Mercy. "Uh, Devil? Don't tell me you believe that shtick of his."

"Huh?" Mercy suddenly realized what she said. "Oh! No! I mean, it was just... someone who calls himself the Devil is a better dude than others, is what I meant. Sorry, guess I've been around him too much."

"Uh huh, sounds like it," Miles said. "I dunno how ya stand it, to be honest."

"He's really not that bad," Mercy said.

"Right, well, listen I was gonna go shopping tomorrow," Blake said, sitting up straighter in her seat. "Wanna come? Get out of this place a little?"

"Sure," Mercy agreed with a nod. "What kind of shopping?"

"Clothes, duh-doy." Blake grinned. "I think we need some new threads to keep things interesting for the fans."

"Then why aren't we invited?" Miles asked. "Hutch and I are in the band too."

"Meh, not as fun to see you guys in a dressing room," Blake said with a shrug.

"Blake!" Mercy protested.

"What?" She grinned innocently.

"You guys are all worried about Luci giving me shit when we got Blake who wants to oogle me," Mercy muttered.

"_Luci?_" Miles echoed. "He's got a nickname, does he?"

Mercy cleared her throat awkwardly. "Kinda just happened."

Hutch turned in his seat to eye the club owner with a small frown. "Nice guys really do finish last, don't they?"

"Oh stop!" Mercy smacked his arm. "I do not like him like that! It's just... with the shooting and everything... we've kind of bonded. But not like _that!_"

"All right!" Hutch said, raising his hands in surrender and chuckling. "But legit, if he starts pestering you for that..."

Suddenly, all of Mercy's bandmates became incredibly serious. All of them looked at her with equal expressions of determination.

"You tell us," Miles said.

"Yeah, 'cause boss or not, we'll kick his ass," Blake added.

"Blake would lead the charge," Hutch said, "and Miles and I would be like her back-up dancers but with maces or something."

"I prefer baseball bats," Miles said, looking over at Hutch.

"We could always use knives," Hutch mused.

"Guys!" Mercy exclaimed, but she was smiling despite herself. "A: I can handle myself, and B: Lucifer wouldn't do anything like that. I promise."

"How can you know for sure?" Blake asked skeptically. "Men can be real hound dogs, that's why you should swap teams."

"Blake..." Mercy groaned.

"She's got a point," Miles said. "Well, about how you could possibly know, not the men are hound dogs." He glanced toward the drummer. "I am an _angel._"

"Isn't Mercy the angel?" Hutch laughed.

Mercy tried not to think about how the handsome club owner across the room was actually the angel. She sighed and put her hands on the table.

"Like I said, Luci and I bonded after that shooting. I just... I know he would never do anything to hurt me. Or you guys, even. He's... a pretty cool dude for someone who calls himself the Devil," Mercy murmured.

"Fair enough," Hutch said. "Still, though. Offer always stands."

"I get it, I have your sword, Blake's axe, and Miles' bow." Mercy grinned at them.

"Why am I Legolas?" Miles protested.

"Why am I Gimli?" Blake demanded.

"I'm happy with Aragorn," Hutch said with a shrug.

"I wanna be Aragorn!" Miles and Blake said in unison.

The rest of the night went on with the four of them jesting and having a few drinks. At one point, Maze came over and stole Blake away. Not long after that, Miles and Hutch announced they were going to go home and Mercy decided she'd best retire as well. When she looked around to bid Lucifer goodnight, she saw that the Devil was nowhere to be seen.

She sighed, guessing he'd whisked that handsome young man away to his penthouse. Mercy gathered the glasses off the table and brought them over to the bar. One of the bartenders that wasn't Maze was working the counter and nodded his thanks.

Mercy went down to her apartment and as she walked into the quiet living room she let out a long breath. Her dream of Conor still plagued her mind. What if it was all true? What if her father was really a Norse god? That would make her a demigod. The concept seemed beyond her reach. But all the same, she couldn't help but remember her time with her father, and things her mother would say.

"_Your father is very busy, but he does love you. He sees you as often as he can. You're a gift to him, never forget that, Astrid._"

Astrid. Mercy hadn't thought of her birth name in a long time. Her father chose it, and she always teased him.

"_What am I, a viking?_"

"_More like my little Valkyrie."_

His mischievous smile was always infectious.

"Shit." Mercy shook her head and went toward her bedroom.

Answers weren't going to just come flying to her. She'd have to search them out. She just had no clue how she'd do that while still playing in the band and keeping up appearances with her friends.

*.*.*

Mercy ended up waking up early despite going to bed so late. Her body was restless, knots of snakes tangling and writhing through her limbs and infesting her gut. She got up and got out her laptop, deciding to do some research on Norse mythology. She knew the basics... Loki was a trickster, a god of mischief. He had at least three children, one of which was Fenrir. She read that Fenrir was the one meant to kill Odin during Ragnorak, the Norse apocalypse. Of course, that hadn't happened yet.

Taking her laptop upstairs to the club, hoping to find Lucifer and discuss her findings, Mercy walked out and sat down at the table closest to the piano. She put the laptop on the table and frowned at the screen. There was a lot of conflicting information, as well as some things that weren't clear. She couldn't make sense of some of it.

The current page she was on read: _"Loki, in Norse mythology, a cunning trickster who had the ability to change his shape and sex. Although his father was the giant Fárbauti, he was included among the Aesir (a tribe of gods). Loki was represented as the companion of the great gods Odin and Thor, helping them with his clever plans but sometimes causing embarrassment and difficulty for them and himself. He also appeared as the enemy of the gods, entering their banquet uninvited and demanding their drink. He was the principal cause of the death of the god Balder. Loki was bound to a rock (by the entrails of one or more of his sons, according to some sources) as punishment, thus in many ways resembling the Greek figures Prometheus and Tantalus. Also like Prometheus, Loki is considered a god of fire."_

"Entrails of his sons..." Mercy breathed. "Eugh... I hope that part isn't real."

Of course, she didn't know if _any _of it was real. She didn't know if her dream was truly Conor speaking to her. She didn't know anything anymore. She shook her head and read on.

_ "Loki is the father, by the giantess Angrboda (Angrboða, "Anguish-Boding"), of Hel, the goddess of the underworld; Jormungand, the great serpent who slays Thor during Ragnarok; and Fenrir, the wolf who bites off one of the hands of Tyr and who kills Odin during Ragnarok – hardly a reputable brood, to say the least. As we'll see below, Loki demonstrates a complete lack of concern for the well-being of his fellow gods, a trait which could be discerned, in vague outline, merely by considering these offspring of his."_

"Helena..." Mercy whispered. Her big sister. It just seemed a bit too perfect that she had that name while Loki's daughter's name was Hel. Then she remembered her brother Joel's snake tattoo on his arm.

However, it wasn't until she read the next part that her hears skipped a beat.

_"With his proper wife __Sigyn__ ("Friend of Victory"), he also has a son named Nari or Narfi, whose name might mean 'Corpse.'"_

"Victoria..." Mercy stared at the screen, specifically at the "_Friend of Victory_" part.

The pieces fell so well. Mercy's heart thrummed in her ears and neck. She got to her feet, pursing her lips she reached down to grab her laptop. Her adrenaline was going, shaking her hands. She fumbled and the laptop slipped from her fingers.

Mercy yelped and scrambled to catch it, but just as she reached for it, it stopped falling. Instead, it hovered in the air impossibly, not even touching the table anymore.

Dread sank into her gut—ink sliding down a page and staining it. Slowly looking up, she saw a tall, familiar figure standing back near the windows. His sleeveless robe was silver and black. He stared at Mercy with a furrowed brow and his mouth slightly agape.

Unable to think of what else to do, Mercy grabbed her laptop and gently set it on the table before clearing her throat awkwardly.

"Th-thanks, it might've broke..." she rasped.

"Who are you?" Amenadiel demanded. The angel's voice was firm and full of authority.

"Uh... a friend of Lucifer's?" Mercy's words came out as a question. "M-my name is Mercy."

Amenadiel began to walk toward her. Mercy glanced toward the stairs and elevator, her pulse drumming in her chest. She had to get to Lucifer. The elevator was the only way into Lucifer's penthouse. Too bad this guy had wings and was probably stupid strong and fast.

Regardless, Mercy had to try.

She bolted, jumping over the back of the seat and sprinting for the elevator. Amenadiel seemed shocked more than anything at first. Yet after a moment, he began to walk after her. Somehow, that was far more intimidating than if he ran. Mercy slammed her hand on the call button for the elevator. She turned to see the angel was still coming, his dark eyes latched on her and his expression set in stone.

The elevator opened. Mercy lurched inside and proceeded to slam the penthouse button and close door button at the same time. Amenadiel still walked across the club's main room, just passing the piano. Surely he could move faster than that, why was he going so slow?

The elevator closed before he could reach it and Mercy shook her head as it began to rise. It made no sense. Why was he taking his time? The doors opened and she ran out into Lucifer's penthouse's sitting room. The Devil in question was standing behind his bar, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and boxers. His dark hair was mussed and he seemed to have just woken.

"Lucifer!" Mercy cried, beginning to move toward him.

"Mercy?" Lucifer turned toward her just as she got two steps inside.

That's when the hand latched onto the back of her neck. Mercy gasped and reached up, attempting to pry the fingers loose, but Amenadiel's grip was iron. Of course, he had wings. He knew Mercy wouldn't get away from him, he just wanted to catch her in front of his little brother. Lucifer's expression went from sheer surprise to livid anger.

"Amenadiel, let her go," he ordered, stepping out from behind the bar.

"Who is she, brother?" Amenadiel asked coolly. "And why don't my powers affect her?"

"This is a conversation we can easily have without you manhandling her like that," Lucifer snapped, pausing a few feet away. His eyes darted between Mercy and Amenadiel, stretched wide.

"Who. Is. She?" Amenadiel repeated darkly. "She can't be human."

The original plan was to have Lucifer make Amenadiel believe that it was _his _powers that made Mercy immune, but in that moment, logic seemed lost. Mercy's neck began to ache and she couldn't even budge. Lucifer looked both furious and panicked.

"Her name is Mercy," Lucifer said, holding out his hands. Mercy could tell he was trying to speak calmly, but it was barely controlled. "And her mother was as human as they come, now let her go."

Not a lie; and in the heat of the moment, Amenadiel might not question why Lucifer didn't mention her father. The angel was silent for a moment, eyeing Lucifer.

"Why don't my powers affect her?" he repeated.

"I will talk to you once you release her." Lucifer's eyes began to shine red. "It's against angel law to kill a human, isn't it? How would Father appreciate your actions?"

"Something like this could be a _danger _to humans," Amenadiel retorted.

"Amenadiel!" Lucifer shouted, his voice echoing ruthlessly off the walls. His eyes were glowing crimson. "If you don't release her _right now,_ you're going to sorely regret it."

Amenadiel exhaled sharply. He looked at the Devil for a few more agonizing seconds, then his hand let Mercy go. She instantly ran to Lucifer, who grabbed her and put her behind him while keeping a hold on her arm. His eyes dimmed back to their normal dark brown.

"It's okay," he assured her softly. "I made you a promise."

Mercy nodded shakily. Her entire body was shaking, but she felt much better with him in front of her.

"There," Amenadiel said. "Now, give me some answers."

"Luci..." Mercy rasped.

"It's all right," Lucifer said, keeping his eyes on Amenadiel. "I'll make him reason and if he doesn't, I'll rip his wings off."

The promise his tone held was almost enough to make Mercy shiver. She'd seen his true face when he attacked Jimmy Barnes for shooting her, but this was something else.

"Before I tell you anything, brother, I'm going to make certain you understand something," Lucifer said tightly. "Mercy is under my protection. If you dare try to harm her or take her, it won't end well for you."

Amenadiel scoffed. "Lucifer, you suggest that you could stand a chance."

"Let's face it, Amenadiel, there's a reason you haven't _forced_ me back to Hell," Lucifer snarled.

"If this girl is a danger to humanity, I'll have no choice but to protect them," Amenadiel said. "It's my duty."

"Mercy is not a threat to humanity!" Lucifer barked. "Until a month ago, she was very much a part of humanity."

"So she _isn't_ human?" Amenadiel demanded.

Mercy was gripping the back of Lucifer's robe. She couldn't help but be aware that Lucifer didn't have his wings and Amenadiel did. They had to get the angel to understand.

"We don't know," Mercy said.

"Mercy," Lucifer muttered warningly.

"I didn't know I was immune to angelic powers until a month ago," Mercy pressed on, looking at Amenadiel from around Lucifer's shoulder, but dared not step forward. "Then I met Lucifer. Y-you visited while I was here, and I saw time slow and... I have _no _idea why it doesn't affect me. Neither does Lucifer. We're trying to figure it out."

"We've no way of knowing if it's just me that's causing it," Lucifer cut in. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't what they were thinking was behind her immunity.

"H-he's right," Mercy said, nodding.

"Well, what _do_ you know?" Amenadiel demanded. "Because even if you _are_ human, you're not meant to know about divinity—to be exposed to it."

"Clearly that part doesn't bug her, brother," Lucifer pointed out.

"This is absurd..." Amenadiel muttered. "Lucifer, you need to go back to Hell and I will take the girl under my custody until I understand what's going on."

"That's not happening." Lucifer's grip on my arm tightened a little. "You will provoke a war, Amenadiel. Are you so certain you'd 'love a war?' Because _all _of humanity will know of divinity then!"

Mercy blinked a few times, surprised by Lucifer's loyalty. But she also had a feeling that he would want to go to war with this brother of his over just about anything. He didn't want to go back to Hell, and he clearly was getting annoyed by Amenadiel bothering him. He was the Devil, after all. Short temper is to be expected, at least when it comes to his family.

"You're making a mistake, Lucifer," Amenadiel warned. "Father won't be pleased."

"Story of my life!" Lucifer exclaimed. "Listen, I'm not a moron, I wouldn't be keeping a ticking time bomb around my club. You know I don't lie, Amenadiel, so believe me when I say that Mercy is not a threat to anyone."

Amenadiel looked over his brother with narrowed eyes, as if weighing his options. He glanced at Mercy, who tightened the grip on Lucifer's robe.

"Fine," Amenadiel finally said, though his voice was tight. "But I will be keeping an eye on this situation. A _very_ close eye. And if for any reason this girl proves to be a threat to humanity, well... I'll be taking over."

"You won't, but I'll agree to you leaving to watch from afar," Lucifer said.

Great black wings sprouted from Amenadiel's back. The feathers looked solid enough to cut steel. He looked them both over one more time before he flapped them and evaporated from sight.

Mercy's knees instantly caved. She sank to the ground, shaking and gasping for breath. Lucifer whirled around and knelt beside her, gripping her shoulders.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" the Devil demanded, looking her over.

"I-I'm fine, physically," Mercy breathed. "That just... hoo..." She shook her head. "That was honestly scarier than being shot at."

"I'd never let him do anything," Lucifer vowed. "I should have been more prudent, stayed with you..."

"I can't expect you to do that," Mercy said, shaking her head. "Also—personal space and all that..." She met his eyes. "What... what do you think he would have done? I mean, if you weren't here?"

"Amenadiel would never risk killing a human," Lucifer said. "He'd want to ensure he knew what you were first. But there's no need to worry about that. He won't touch you again."

"You can't know that for certain," Mercy rasped.

Lucifer lowered his brows and bit his lip. "You're right. I'll just have to _make_ certain, won't I?"

He gripped her elbows and helped her stand before leading her to the sofa. Mercy allowed this and sat down, blinking at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"I know you value your personal space, but this is too important," Lucifer said, straightening up. "I need to be at your side. I'll stay with you in your apartment. Or you can stay with me up here." He gestured around himself at the lavish penthouse. "Much roomier, better view, more amenities."

"Luci, no, do you know how weird it would be just having you with me everywhere I go?"

Lucifer considered then snapped his fingers. "We'll say we're dating."

"No!" Mercy protested, then at his slightly hurt expression, she added, "Even people who are dating spend time apart. Healthy people, anyway."

"I can't risk Amenadiel changing his mind and swooping in when I'm not there now that he knows about you," Lucifer pressed.

"He said he'd back off," Mercy reminded him. "And you did promise to start a war. I think he took that to heart. He doesn't want to risk the consequences right now."

"But what if he decides to risk them later?" Lucifer lifted his arms in exasperation and began to pace. Mercy couldn't help but notice his rather built torso beneath the robe, but she adverted her gaze. Priorities...

"Lucifer, you said you had people looking into all... all this, right? Victoria and everything?" Mercy murmured.

Lucifer nodded, pausing in his pacing to look at her.

"Have you figured anything out? Is there... anything?" Mercy whispered.

Lucifer blinked a few times and then he came over to sit beside her on the sofa. "You know I'd tell you straight away. We'll find answers, Astrid," Lucifer said, gripping her shoulder. "I'm a man of my word."

At that point, Mercy heard bare feet padding across the hard floor and lifted her head to see a handsome and very naked young man walking out of the bedroom area of Lucifer's penthouse. He waved at them, not at all ashamed of his nudity as he walked toward the bar.

Lucifer waved back and shortly after, a woman followed after the man, though she was wearing a thin silk robe that didn't do much to hide her curvy figure. She smiled at the pair of them on the couch before heading after the man.

"Wow," Mercy said.

"What?" Lucifer scoffed. "It's called the Devil's threesome for a reason."

Mercy laughed a bit and shook her head. "Next time warn me about naked people in here, will you?" She got to her feet and rolled her shoulders. "Listen, I have some research of my own to discuss with you, so meet me downstairs when you get dressed?"

"H-how about you wait here, and I'll be ready in five minutes," Lucifer suggested as he got to his feet. "You two, one drink then off you trot, don't forget your things." He gestured to the man and woman behind the bar.

"Luci, I'll be fine," Mercy assured.

Lucifer exhaled sharply and pursed his lips. "Just... please wait?"

Mercy sighed. Amenadiel's appearance had him worried, it seemed. She supposed she could humor him for now, but she couldn't have Lucifer glued to her side 24/7. She gestured for him to go to his bedroom and plopped back down on the sofa. He beamed before hurrying off.

"Careful with that one, he's like crack," the naked man behind the bar said. "I thought I was straight until last night."

Mercy chuckled. "We don't have that kind of relationship."

"Really?" The woman perked a brow as she poured herself some vodka. "I didn't think Lucifer could be around attractive people without getting in their pants. Are you Ace or something?"

"No, just..." Mercy glanced toward the wall that separated the living room from the bedroom. "Just a friend."

The man behind the bar laughed softly. "See how long that lasts." He poured back his drink then went to gather his clothes. They were in a pile near the bar that Mercy hadn't noticed before.

After sitting awkwardly as the man and woman dressed and left, Mercy saw Lucifer step back into the living room, wearing one of his fine suits and adjusting his vest. He didn't wear a tie, exposing the bottom of his throat and the top of his collarbone.

"Well, shall we?" he said, smiling at her.

Mercy couldn't help but think about everything that could go wrong. If Amenadiel changed his mind, if he fought Lucifer and won. Or if Victoria somehow found her—found her and killed her for being born. There were so many things at stake. However at Lucifer's charming smile, she figured it could be worse.


End file.
